Prison Break
by Heaven Born Captain
Summary: COMPLETE. Gibbs and Ducky are made the unfortunate victims of the French police in a territorial dispute to the death. So what's standing in the way of NCIS Special Agent Jenny Shepard from coming to their rescue? Pre-Series Europe. JIBBS.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi lovely people who decided to open up this web page. Do you all remember Ducky's story in Smoked? Where the French police issued a warrant for his arrest. Well.... Ta Da! I had slight problems with the timeline and couldn't exactly figure out when this happened, so I decided to put it after Gibbs gets the Dear John, but not long afterwards. Jenny is still in Europe and Ducky and Gibbs have come in from the US. So without further ado, I present to you Chapter One! (applause please)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, locations or plots from NCIS. I have the utmost respect for the writers, producers and directors and do not intend to infringe any copyright laws. I am writing this for my enjoyment and the enjoyment of others.**

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**Chapter One**

_7 August 2000_

_Hotel D'Arago, Paris_

_9.15 p.m. (2015 GMT)_

A surprisingly solemn and silent, summer night greeted the Parisians as the sun set over the horizon and a chilly breeze had begun to set in. A Monday night it was, yet there was still an unusual amount of calm in the air across the city. The lit skyline of Paris was even more breathtaking by night, it's nickname of 'La Ville-Lumière' or 'The Light City' well earned. But it was the crisp evening air, after a temperature drop from twenty-six degrees Celsius to thirteen that sent chills down everybody's spines.

It was these chills that ate away at the instincts of Leroy Jethro Gibbs. His intuition, or gut feeling as he referred to it so often as, was suggestive of grim event ahead. And his gut never let him down.

"Cool night, Jethro?" Gibbs' comrade, Dr. Donald Mallard, more affectionately known as Ducky, asked from inside their shared one-bedroom suite.

Gibbs was standing outside on the balcony, his arms crossed comfortably as he leant against the railing, basking in the beauty of the cityscape, constantly reminding himself that there would be no time for sight-seeing tomorrow. "A bit cooler, Duck," he called back inside. Drawing himself away from the few vehicles on the street in front of him, he took the giant step back into the warmer refuge of their hotel suite.

"One bed?" Gibbs questioned needlessly, staring at the structure in the centre of the room. He looked around, taking in the features and sites of their sanctuary for the next few days. He was pleased to locate a couch next to the desk, one that bore a striking resemblance to a settee, but he would make do.

"This is Europe, Jethro," Ducky pointed out with a small smile creeping across his lips.

"Yeah, well, I'll take the couch," Gibbs announced begrudgingly. To further his point, he heaved his body down on to the couch and pulled a file out of his black briefcase. How he managed to remove the one file from the case without disturbing the mess surrounding it was beyond the grasp of Ducky's knowledge. But then again, Gibbs had his own expert, yet unorthodox, way of doing things and he was not about to question them.

Gibbs, with a pen resting above his left ear, was intent on studying the case file he'd received almost as soon as his flight had landed three hours ago until he could recite it from memory. The file was made up of intelligence reports from his agency, the Naval Criminal Investigative Service or simply NCIS, as well as the NSA and CIA. It also included documentation from Interpol on a homicide case. The murder of NCIS Special Agent Matthew Bellings right here in Paris. NCIS were attempting to investigate the case, but could not cut through the red tape stapled up by the French National Police.

So it was up to Special Agent Gibbs and Chief Medical Examiner Mallard to investigate the case outside the borders and jurisdiction of NCIS and probably without the help of the French Authorities. Unfortunately for Gibbs, he knew that it was likely to involve some illicit activity.

Gibbs was so engrossed in the file he was reading that he did not even notice his colleague step into the bathroom for a shower and re-emerge, refreshed, half an hour later. The file outlined as much as possible the operation Bellings was working on in Paris as well as past missions and his life back in the United States. His current mission was centred on the illegal arms trade across the Mediterranean and his main focus was the movement of said weapons through France to Cannes and across the French Riviera. There were agents in Rota, Marseille, Monaco, Dubrovnik and a few other ports of call.

"Did you know, Jethro, that the name of this place is the Hotel d'Arago?" Ducky asked, interrupting Gibbs' thoughts as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. He spoke with an attempt at a good French accent, but it was muddled by his English.

"I did know that, Duck," Gibbs answered without looking up from his reading. "I paid for it."

"Yes, well, I don't expect you to understand the significance. It refers to the Arago Rose Line, more commonly known as the Paris Meridian."

"Is that so?" Gibbs asked inattentively. He was far more concerned with the history of their former colleague and victim than the Parisian history of the hotel.

"Yes, it runs north to south and is distinguished on land by bronze plates," Ducky continued. He stood up and walked outside on to the balcony. Calling back inside to Gibbs, he near-shouted, "I can see two outside, Jethro. Marvellous, really. It was named after the French astronomer, Francois Arago and was a challenger of the Greenwich Meridian. Of course, the Rose Line was popularised by Priory of Sion mythology..."

Gibbs tuned out as his older English friend continued his great tale of the 1967 Priory of Sion document, _Au Pays de la Reine Blanche_. Bellings had reported the crooked dealings of officers in the Federal Police and illegal merchant dealers from across the Riviera. It seemed that there was a lot of money involved in arms trading across the Mediterranean Sea. Gibbs could not help but wonder where these weapons were sold to after they'd reached their buyers in the Mediterranean ports. Were they sold on to terrorist groups, militants or illicit spy rings? Would they be responsible for the deaths of hundreds of American soldiers and other NATO troops in the Kosovo war?

"Something troubling you?" Ducky asked as he re-entered the suite and locked the door behind him. The cold draught that had followed him in immediately fell away when the door was shut. Gibbs could feel the warmth coming back to his extremities.

"Just unanswered questions, Duck," Gibbs replied solemnly. He placed the file down on the desk and leaned back against the wall. "You should get some sleep. We'll have an early start in the morning. I need you to go to the Central Directorate of Judicial Police and petition for the case files on Special Agent Bellings' death."

"Ah, the _Direction Centrale de la Police Judiciaire_," Ducky reminisced, once again trying his hand at a French accent. "Why me?"

"Your credentials are better for this than my own," Gibbs answered shortly. "The last thing we need is for the _Police Nationale_ to have reason to arrest foreign spies operating on French soil."

"Ah yes," Ducky agreed, but Gibbs got up and walked into the bathroom before he could launch into another account of his dealings with or knowledge about the French judicial system.

"Get some sleep, Ducky," Gibbs ordered from behind the bathroom door. "We'll have a long day tomorrow."

Ducky smiled as he heard Gibbs squeak on the taps in the shower. He closed his eyes and laid down on the bed, drifting off with the peaceful silence that engulfed the room.

---

_7 August 2000_

_Jerez Airport, Spain_

_10.40 p.m. (2140 GMT)_

The air in the southern Spanish region of Cadiz was distinguished by a comfortable warm breeze. It was a busy night in Jerez de la Frontera, but NCIS Special Agent Jennifer Shepard had plans to leave it all behind for the cooler winds of the country's northern neighbour. She'd just completed the thirty kilometre trip from the Rota US Naval Base, where she was currently stationed, to the nearest international airport and was catching one of the few flights that left that evening for Paris.

Her ex-mentor and ex-lover had arrived in the romantic city where they'd first met earlier than she expected. In a way, she was glad that she didn't have to meet him and his colleague, a Dr. Donald Mallard, that night, giving her one more day to present herself to the man she had hoped not to see again for a long while. In fact, she'd hoped that her heart would never again be disturbed by him. But fate had other plans for her. It seemed that Special Agent Gibbs was set to make a stir in her life once more and she couldn't even fault him for it. It was not his fault that he was in Paris, nor was it hers that she was sent there too. She was the most senior NCIS agent in Southern Europe and Bellings was one of her agents. And who better to send to investigate it than the legendary Leroy Jethro Gibbs and his medical examiner?

Yet all the pleasant reasons in the world could not deter Jenny from laying the blame with Gibbs for coming back to Europe. She had ended their relationship in pursuit of greater things with NCIS. She'd hoped that he would understand. But she knew that he wouldn't. His pride and stubbornness would not allow him to shed any light on her situation. He had tunnel vision and it only let him see one light in the world.

The urgent Spanish-speaking voice of a high-strung woman came over the P.A. system in the departures terminal. _"Last call for Air France flight 218 to Paris." _Picking up her ready bag, Jenny finally decided to accept her fate and board the aircraft. She was going to see Gibbs again.

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**So what do you think of it so far? **

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**I love your feedback so please do review and let me know if you like it or if there's anything I can do to make it better.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I didn't get too many reviews last chapter, only 5, but I'm updating this story again. So let me know if you're enjoying it.**

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.**

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**Chapter Two**

_8 August 2000_

_DCPJ HQ, 11 rue des Saussaies, Paris_

_10.30 a.m. (0930 GMT)_

It was another warm day in the French capital as passer-byes made their way to work, shopped at the boutiques along the street or had brunch with friends or colleagues in petite cafes. Gibbs was sitting alone at one of these cafes, sipping down an exceptionally sweet French coffee and eating a small bagel. His 'partner in crime,' Ducky was meeting with an officer of the _Direction Centrale de la Police Judiciaire_ or the DCPJ and Gibbs was across the road at the small cafe. If Ducky couldn't sweet talk the officer into handing over the crime scene reports, Gibbs would be lacking a critical part of his investigation. They would need to resort to plan B.

Hoping for the miracle of French cooperation as he finished off his second coffee of the day, Gibbs had little else to do but watch French natives pass-by, yapping away to each other in what's known to the rest of the world as the Romantic Language. There was small child following his mother as she shopped for the latest styles on European fashion scene. A group of rebellious teenagers in gothic wear with jet black Mohawks and spiked dog collars were smoking off to Gibbs left. He did his best to ignore them.

There was a disturbance across the road, just outside the DCPJ building. Two men in their thirties had gotten into a scuffle. About what, Gibbs didn't know, but they had dragged each other on to the road, stopping the small trickle of traffic trying to make its way through the one-way street. The distraction was enough for Gibbs not to notice a red-haired woman pass him by. She stopped, about to cross the road to the DCPJ, then noticed the blue-eyed silver fox craning his head up to watch the National Police break up the dispute.

"Hello, Jethro," Jenny said loudly, announcing herself to the man directly in front of her.

"Jen?" Gibbs asked, hearing the voice. He turned around and saw her smiling face bearing upon him. She was dressed in a neat business suit with a low-cut top. Too low-cut, Gibbs was beginning to think. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, my flight landed at CDG Airport last night," Jenny told him with a shrug. She sat down at his table and signalled to the waitress to come over.

"That doesn't tell me why you're here," Gibbs commented in a harsher voice, unamused by her previous remark.

"Don't get short with me, Jethro," Jenny warned. The petite waitress that was coming over to take her order was slightly afraid by the sternness of her voice, but cautiously approached the table.

"What would you like, Madame?" the waitress asked in a squeaky voice and a thick French accent. She was weary of another outburst by the American woman, so she tried to keep her distance without looking like she was trying to keep her distance. Unfortunately for the young woman, she was very bad at it and her attempts were an undeniable source of amusement for Gibbs.

"Latte, two sugars," Jenny shot back at her, still reeling at Gibbs.

"_Oui_," the waitress replied in a frightened voice. She hurried off in the direction of the kitchen.

"That wasn't very nice," Gibbs stated in a joking manner, but his face remained unchanged. No smile crept across his charming face as he stared back at his ex-lover. He shuffled his chair slightly so that he was further away from her, but it was still closer than he wanted to be.

Jenny ignored his comment. "I'm here to oversee your investigation."

"Under whose orders?"

"Director Morrow's. Matthew Bellings was a good agent, my agent, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let you take this alone. The Director agrees. Not only do we have this investigation to run, but we need to be careful not to damage any ties we have with the French government."

"A bureaucratic nightmare is not my problem," Gibbs shot back disdainfully.

The waitress came back after only a few minutes and placed the latte on the table in front of Jenny.

"_Merci_," Jenny called back to her as she walked away. She took a sip of the coffee, but, deciding it was too hot, she put it back down and looked back up at Gibbs. "A bureaucratic nightmare is _our_ problem, Gibbs."

"_Our_ problem?" Gibbs questioned, the look on his face mimicking his words. "I wasn't aware that we shared anything anymore."

Words could not enter Jenny's mind frame. She was speechless and to make matters worse, Gibbs' stare was unbearable. Jenny was in luck, though. Gibbs' English travelling partner was busying himself across the street and towards the small cafe.

Gibbs spoke to him before he'd even stepped up on to the sidewalk. "You get it, Duck?"

Ducky did not answer until he reached them and sat down in the remaining chair at the table. He removed his hat and placed it in front of him and then, finally, chose to answer Gibbs' question. "Unfortunately not, Jethro. The French are adamant at keeping this in-house, so to speak." He turned to Jenny with a very polite smile. "And it is lovely to see you again, my dear. How have you been keeping?"

"I'm very well thank you, Ducky," Jenny answered, returning the smile.

"We can tell. You don't get a tan like that in the United States," Gibbs commented.

Jenny stared back at him, silent, but Ducky piped up an appropriate accord to his statement. "Yes, Jethro, you won't get Mediterranean skin like that in Russia."

"Russia?" Jenny questioned, her face contorted with her mind's confusion.

"Oh yes," Ducky replied with lively animation. Gibbs found his enthusiasm quite disturbing, but let the English doctor tell his tale. After everything Jenny had done to him, this was the least he could possibly return. "When we return to the US, Jethro is moving to Moscow with his new wife, Stephanie."

"Wife?" Jenny asked, turning to Jethro, her eyebrows raised in shock and amazement, but also some doubt.

Gibbs nodded, but didn't say anything. It was the perfect opportunity to rub his nose into it, but he didn't have the heart to add insult to injury.

"Well then," Jenny began, slightly rattled as she stood up, bring her cover with her. "We should go to the Embassy, see if they've had more luck than us."

Gibbs nodded and stood up silently, Ducky trailing behind. He couldn't blame Ducky for what just happened. The doctor didn't know about his previous relationship with Jenny, but, in that moment, he regretted letting Ducky reveal news of Jethro's marriage to her.

---

_8 August 2000_

_Embassy of the United States, Place de la Concorde, Paris_

_3.20 p.m. (1420 GMT)_

"We waited for three hours for him to tell us that he couldn't do anything to help us!" Gibbs near shouted as he exited the office of the Ambassador.

Jenny, tired of his whinging throughout the day, hissed back, "Calm down. His hands are tied. There's nothing he can do." She managed to keep him sane until they got downstairs and into the gardens of the embassy.

"So what now?" Gibbs questioned as soon as they were free from the diplomatic and political ropes of the building. "We've been diplomatic. Now we're doing this my way."

"I agree," Jenny put in. Both Gibbs and Ducky stopped and looked at her in a weird manner. "What? Did you expect me to disagree with you?"

"Yes," Gibbs answered shortly.

"You've been doing it all day," Ducky added.

"Well, now I'm agreeing. So what's the plan?"

"We cannot conduct this investigation without knowing where, when or how Bellings died," Gibbs told them.

"So we need the case files," Ducky concluded. "How are we going to get them?"

Gibbs shot them both a stare that answered the question.

"I must say, I find this whole business utterly distasteful," Ducky remarked in a dismayed tone.

"That's why you're not coming, Duck," Gibbs told him, still looking intently at Jenny.

"Oh, but I want to be useful," Ducky pressured.

"You will be," Gibbs reassured, putting his hand on the man's arm. "I need you to be my alibi. Go out tonight. Make sure you have an alibi." Then he turned to Jenny. He didn't even need to ask. She already knew what he was thinking.

"As far as the French government knows, I'm not here," Jenny told him. "I arrived under a false name and papers. Will we steal the file tonight?"

"If we can," Gibbs answered. "I don't want to stay in this country any longer than I have to. We're putting ourselves at risk."

"Understood," Jenny told him, her face reassuring her former mentor that she was ready for anything.

"So," Ducky began slyly. "Is this the part where we all put our hands in?"

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**Did you enjoy it?**

**Coming up next chapter- Jenny and Gibbs stake out the DCJP! That sounds like fun. And Ducky has to make sure that Gibbs has an alibi for the evening in case things go sour. Hehehe.**

**Reviews please.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the reviews so far. I love seeing 'Review Alert' in my inbox. It's so exciting.... yeah, I know, I won't go there.**

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.**

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**Chapter Three**

_8 August 2000_

_Hotel de l'Elysee, 12 rue des Saussaies, Paris_

_9.04 p.m. (2004 GMT)_

Another cool night gripped the Parisians as winds from the east blew heavily against their skins. For a summer night, it was not as warm as one would expect. A jacket, at the very least, was needed to brave the weather out on the street, but in the northern district of Paris, no amount of wind was going to halt the hustle and bustle of the world's most romantic city. The lights of the cityscape and the Eiffel Tower in the distance lit up the area for miles around and most people were taking full advantage of the clear sky's night to bask in the brilliance of it all.

It was something that Jenny would have preferred to be doing, but she resigned to sitting on the balcony of the hotel room she'd paid for under her alias' name so that she and Gibbs could stakeout the building across the road. They needed to grasp a firm handle on the security and other staff, particularly officers, in the building at night before they attempted to break in and remove the required documents.

"See anything?" Gibbs asked from inside the hotel room. He had an array of night-vision and infrared equipment on hand to get a greater insight into the building's security layout.

"It's nine o'clock at night. What do you expect me to see?" Jenny shot back. "Most people out there are either coming home from dinner or from the theatre."

Gibbs sighed heavily and stood up. He walked to the sliding door and ripped it open, sticking only his head through the now gaping hole. "It's getting cold out here. Maybe you should come inside."

"I'm fine," Jenny answered without looking at him, but he could tell that she wasn't. Goosebumps were becoming more prominent by the second on her bare forearms and neck. Her skin was much paler than usual and a bluish tinge was forming around her lips. Almost on cue, a shiver coursed down her spine.

Gibbs stared at her, cursing his mind for wanting his body to send shivers of a different kind coursing through her body. Had it been another time, he most definitely would have. He cursed himself again, trying hard once more to convince himself that he did not marry Stephanie to get over Jenny. Stephanie was a good woman and she did not deserve this to happen to her. He averted his mind back to the problem at hand. With a mixture of sympathy and good faith, he ripped a blanket out of the wardrobe in their room and placed it over her shoulders.

"Thanks," Jenny muttered back, slightly abashed.

"You really should come inside, Jen," Gibbs told her, not in an authoritative voice, nor a pleading one. It was simply Gibbs' brand of caring.

"I'm fine, Jethro! Stop being so unreasonable."

"Unreasonable?" Gibbs laughed. "You're the one who'd prefer to freeze your ass off out here than come inside with me where it's warm."

It was then that Jenny saw the flaws in her argument. The argument she was never going to win. Picking up her blanket, and her pride, she waltzed past him and sat down on the bed. Gibbs shut the door and returned to his monitoring equipment. Jenny merely sat on the bed and watched him as he altered variables on the equipment or changed the viewing angle. It was the most boring reality TV show she'd ever seen. And yet she made no comment about it, whereas once she would've. She watched and made no sound. How did it come to this, she wondered, a thought wrenching at her heart. She knew that it came to this because of her. Her decision had set the Berlin Wall in between them, but there was little she could say, little she knew how to say, to tear down this wall.

"You just going to sit there or are you going to say something?" Gibbs questioned after at least five minutes of total silence. It was a tense, awkward silence that had built up, the kind that was screaming at him louder than a herd of faithful supporters at a European soccer match.

Jenny looked up at him with a stern and unemotional face. "I have nothing to say."

"Why are you so mad at me? You threw away everything we had. Not me."

"What did you expect me to do?" Jenny shot back, rising up from her sitting position. Gibbs saw fire in her eyes hotter than the incumbents of hell. But he did not back down. He didn't take a step back, rather a step forward so that they were just touching.

"Come back to the US with me," Gibbs answered in a low voice. "You had that choice to make, the opportunity for us to be together. You chose to stay here."

"You're married now, so clearly it doesn't matter anymore."

"It matters to me," Gibbs said softly. His hands were on her waist but she had one arm on his chest, pressing him back. Turning her gaze away from him, she pushed off him and walked into the cramped bathroom, staying in there longer than any woman ever needed to.

---

_8 August 2000_

_Casino de Paris, 16 Rue Clichy, Paris_

_11.36 p.m. (2236 GMT)_

The atmosphere was electric even on a weeknight. A stunning array of evening gowns and tuxedoes in conjuncture with poker matches and roulette tables provided for the perfect evening spent in any city. But it was in the dazzling Paris that Dr. Donald "Ducky" Mallard had to spend his evening. And where better, he thought, than at the casino.

If he was only sightseeing he might've enjoyed it, but his purpose in the casino had a more sinister motive. He was not a fan of the spy game and definitely did not enjoy the trickery that was involved in his night out, but he went along with the plan for his friend's sake. He could not think of anything better, so this was it.

As he approached the nearby poker table, his phone rang, and the tune of a Scottish folksong could be heard by everyone in a five-metre radius. He answered with a peculiar look, not recognising the phone number on his caller ID. "Mallard."

"_Since when do you answer with Mallard, Duck?"_ Gibbs asked over the line. _"How're things going over there?"_

"Oh, I don't know" he dropped the phone under his chin and called out to a man playing poker, "How are things, Jethro?"

The man's head popped up at the sound of his name for the night. "Great, Duck," he shouted back. "We're actually winning."

"_What are you doing?"_ the real Gibbs asked over the phone.

Ducky had a wide grin on his face as he walked away from the poker table and into a small corner where he couldn't be overheard. "I paid an actor with a very, very good American accent to be you for the evening, Jethro. He looks just like you and he's returning to Amsterdam tomorrow."

"_Good to know,"_ Gibbs replied shortly. _"When you're done over there, head back to our hotel room and then come over here in the morning."_ And he hung up the phone.

On the other side of town, Gibbs looked down at his new cell phone. 'Thirty-six seconds,' read the screen. That was how long the phone call lasted. He smiled to himself. Not long enough for an accurate trace to set in. Jenny was now sitting next to him trying to figure out their best entry point into the DCPJ building. The sheet of paper in front of her could rival that of a Mr. Squiggle contest.

"I think they are less prepared for a break-in during daylight hours," Jenny told him as he sat down next to her, placing his cell phone on the desk in front of them. She was still edging away from him after their argument a few hours earlier.

"Okay."

"Okay? That's it?" she questioned somewhat aggressively. She shot him a dirty look, but it lost its intimidating effects when it turned into a yawn.

"You're tired," Gibbs pointed out, his face charismatically handsome as he knew he was right again. He pointed his head in the direction of the bed. Jenny wanted to debate it, but her tired side won out and she surrendered to the warm solitude of the welcoming refuge. Gibbs watched her, but not too intently, as she drifted off into a slumber. She looked so peaceful as she slept and Gibbs was glad. Tomorrow's day would bring anything but peace for them and he needed her refreshed and focused. He attempted to go over her plan for their operation, but couldn't understand the method beneath the scribble, so he too resigned himself to the bed, first making sure that their room was locked up and secure. He lay down under the covers on the other side of the queen size bed and drifted off slowly, watching her the entire time.

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**So next chapter- they steal the document and Ducky gets into some trouble with the authorities. Sounds like fun. :)**

**Please review. **


	4. Chapter 4

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So this chapter is a little bit longer with a little more action. Do enjoy and please review.

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.**

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**Chapter Four**

_9 August 2000_

_Hotel de l'Elysee, 12 rue des Saussaies, Paris_

_6.28 a.m. (0528 GMT)_

Waking up the following day in such a position was not what Jenny Shepard had expected the first thing in the morning. She had been used to it, granted it had been a while, but for some reason it was her nervousness that made it feel foreign. As her eyes fluttered open like a butterfly emerging from its timeless cacoon, she thoroughly understood that she was not alone in the bed. It took her a few moments to remember what had happened, then, upon realising the owner of the arm draped softly across her waist, she speedily eased herself out from underneath the sheets, and from underneath the man imprisoning her.

More and more each day since Gibbs came back into her life she felt that that prison, her mental anguish, was stemming from her own temptations and limitations, not the boundaries Gibbs had placed on her. She grabbed a set of clothes from her over-packed ready bag and walked over to the shower, grateful that the luxurious hotel had their own source of products. Toiletries, except for a toothbrush, were not as high on her priority packing list as clothing for several occasions as well as all the information and files she would need. She was glad that it was summer. She had no idea how to fit several long coats, scarves, gloves and undergarments into her travel bag.

Gibbs woke up not long after she'd walked into the shower, cursing himself for not waking up first. He was still tired, but he knew that they had work to do, so he forced himself up. First he made sure that the room was still secure, then he rang Ducky, waking up the older English doctor and near ordering him to dress quickly, check out of the hotel and get straight over to the one that they were now staying in. He changed with speed and ordered breakfast from room service for the three of them as Jenny re-emerged from the bathroom. The Eggs Benedict were expensive, but after all, he was not the person paying for it. God bless the NCIS credit card, Gibbs thought with a mischievous smile as his ex-lover walked over to her bag.

"What are you smiling about?" Jenny asked without even looking at him.

Gibbs removed his expression immediately. "Nothing. I, uh, ordered us breakfast. We should eat before we go. It may be the only meal we get today."

Ducky was knocking on their door not long after. He bustled his way inside, about to share his previous night's ordeal before Jenny shushed him so that they could go over the plan before breakfast came.

"Okay, so our best way to get that file is to go directly to the source," Jenny began, a commanding voice becoming her. Gibbs was going to put his two cents in, but knew that this was her plan and she had every right to take the reins, junior agent or not. "Case files of this nature are kept under lock and key within the office of the senior investigating officer until they turn it over into filing. The officers keep the ongoing case files in a vault or cabinet or filing unit of some kind, but most of them are only locked by a very simple design. That is not the hard part."

"I thought it sounded easy," Gibbs put in.

Jenny shot him a look and he immediately shut up, allowing her to continue. "The hard part will be getting into the building, and the room, unseen."

"And how do you propose we do that?" Ducky asked.

"From what we've seen, it'll need to be an inside job," Jenny answered with a slight sigh. She did not like inside jobs. Too much room for error. "The technicians wear a uniform that is not difficult to match. In fact," she said as she walked over to the wardrobe and pulled out a set of blue overalls on a coat hanger, "They wear the same things that this hotel's maintenance do."

"You stole that?!" Gibbs shot out with disbelief. "When?"

"I didn't steal it, I borrowed it," Jenny said, her voice showing the distinct clarification. "And did you really think that I was in the bathroom that whole time last night, Jethro? I slipped out and came back and you didn't notice a thing?"

Gibbs didn't answer, but instead chose to rack his brains to try and remember if she'd actually left the room the night before. He was ignoring her, or doing his best to, and it seems that he may have succeeded. He couldn't recall if she was actually in the bathroom for that whole time.

So Gibbs was designated their undercover technician and Jenny was going in wearing a very revealing top to attract some attention her way as he snuck in. Ducky, on the other hand, was babysitting the equipment in the hotel room as well as utilising it to look out for any flux in security so that he could alert them immediately. Funnily enough, the plan went off without a hitch.

If Gibbs had known that the snatch would have been this easy, he'd have done it earlier. Who leaves an open case file on the desk in plain view, Gibbs wondered, while your fifty feet away chatting up an American redhead with a fake French accent? Grabbing the file from the officer's desk, he slipped his tradesman attire back on and walked out of the building, elated and near-whistling. He had to say that it was the easiest lift he'd made yet. Then his mind fell back into reason. Perhaps it was too easy. It became painfully obvious to him that maybe someone had wanted him to find the file. Was it a trap or just goodwill that passed the file along to him? Goodwill is what led him to his first wife's and daughter's murderer. Franks had left the case file on his desk too. But the officer's reasoning in this instance was elusive. It was very probable that he was just being careless, but Gibbs was sure that he couldn't take the chance.

"Something's going on. That was too easy," Gibbs announced as soon as they'd gotten back to the hotel room with the file. He ripped off the overalls and threw a pair of pants over his boxers with a polo shirt on top.

"Just because it was a well thought out plan, Gibbs, does not make it too easy," Jenny told him with a flash of anger. "We got in and out successfully because we were prepared for it."

"Prepared for what, Jen?" Gibbs asked, throwing up his arms in question. "The case file was lying on the desk. The door to his office was open. The office was left unattended. You still think this wasn't a set up."

"If this was a set-up, then why not catch us in the act?" Jenny questioned with rising animosity for her colleague. "Why let us go free?"

"I don't know! To trap us later? To see what we uncover?"

Jenny huffed at him and turned her back, leaving his questions unanswered. She walked over to Ducky, who was reading the file. "What's it say?"

"Well, our poor boy died of a coupling of gunshot wounds to the chest," Ducky answered, translating the autopsy report from French. "Four to be exact. I'll tell you this, the killer most certainly knew what he was doing. Tight coupling of the shots, all of them fatal. Somebody wanted the poor fellow dead."

"We got that part, Duck," Gibbs called out from the other side of the room. "What else is in there?"

"He didn't die in Paris," Ducky told them.

"Cannes?" Jenny asked, mildly surprised by the new information.

"No, Carcassonne," Ducky replied.

"What the hell was he doing in Carcassonne?" Gibbs questioned, finally standing up from his seat in the corner and walking over to join the other two.

"Well, I couldn't tell you that, Jethro," Ducky pointed out as if it were obvious. "But I can tell you that there are several witness reports but even more unanswered questions."

"What do you mean?" Jenny questioned.

"Either the local police in Carcassonne are trained very poorly for this type of homicide, or they were coached into what information they had to receive. These statements are utterly meaningless, my dear. The officers did not ask the right questions and there was no follow up interviews by the DCPJ."

"So we re-interview them," Jenny concluded, pulling out her laptop and connecting to the internet.

"Carcassonne is several hours away," Gibbs pointed out, sceptical of her new plan.

"Do we drive?" Jenny asked, ignoring his comment.

"The Eurostar train will be much quicker, my dear," Ducky told her. "To Narbonne. We can hire a car from there to Carcassonne."

"Great, the train leaves at eleven o'clock," Jenny announced, reading off the schedule. "That gives us approximately one hour."

---

_9 August 2000_

_Lac de Cavayère, Languedoc-Roussillon, France_

_4.39 p.m. (1539 GMT)_

Gibbs was still growling about the size of the car he was driving as they arrived just south of the city of Carcassonne. Jenny, who had the credit card and untraceable alias, had to hire the Renault Clio III for them, which she did while Gibbs and Ducky were in a convenience store buying a road map of the Languedoc-Roussillon area. She didn't know what possessed her to rent the little blue car while they were in Narbonne. Perhaps it was just for the sheer enjoyment and satisfaction of annoying her former lover and mentor, but she was starting to regret it. With Ducky in the back seat, she was, once again, far too close to Gibbs for her to handle.

The Englishman had fallen asleep some time ago, letting the gentle movement of the car take him away to clouds of his dreams, while Jenny and Gibbs sat in awkward silence. Both wanted to strike up a conversation, but couldn't think of anything worthy to discuss. They'd gone over the case file during the four and a half hour train trip from Paris. They could start fighting again, but they'd probably wake Ducky up and that meant having to listen to another rendition of European train travel through history. So they resigned to the silence, eventually arriving at the cafe restaurant of their first witness, Pierre Duvonne.

Gibbs woke Ducky up while Jenny went inside to question Duvonne. She did speak better French after all. Ducky stretched widely as he overlooked the medieval town of Carcasonne.

"You know, Jethro," Ducky began in his signature reminiscent tone. "The fortress village of Carcassonne was built by the Roman Empire about a century before the birth of Christ, but its original inhabitants can be dated back almost 3500 years earlier. It became a stronghold for Occitan Cathars escaping persecution by the Catholic Church during the Albigensian Crusades. It actually became a border citadel-"

Gibbs cut him off by raising his hand. "Duck, it's been a long day." He was saved from having to say anymore by Jenny's return to their tiny car.

"Jen, why did you hire this thing?" Gibbs questioned in a strained and tired voice. "Seriously, that's not a car, that's a lunchbox."

Ducky chuckled loudly, but Jenny was not amused.

"The waitress inside claims that Duvonne went for a walk along the lookout of the lake over there," she told them, nodding her head in the direction of the small body of water.

"Then let's go find him," Gibbs concluded, locking up the car and making sure that his Sig was secure behind his back.

Jenny and Ducky followed close behind him as he trampled through the wind towards a group of people standing by the side o the road, overlooking the water.

"Pierre Duvonne?" Gibbs called out into the group.

"_Oui_. Yes," Duvonne answered. Gibbs kept walking towards him, only stopping when he recognised the men he was with as DCPJ officers. He, Jenny and Ducky then decided to back away slowly, but not before their heels were trampled by an onset of local officers pushing them in the opposite direction.

"Where are you from, Americans?" one beefy DCPJ officer asked in a thick accent. "Passports?!"

A million things were running through their minds. They weren't prepared for this. Gibbs was right, Jenny thought, it was a trap. The only thing going through Gibbs' mind was run. Ducky had the case file and the local officers seemed to congregate around him.

"Run," Gibbs whispered in a low but urgent voice to the other two. And they didn't need telling twice. Jenny quickly stepped around the two cops that moved to grab her, tripping one of them over on the road. Gibbs had no problem bowling through the group and managed to reach their little Renault first. He unlocked the doors and hopped into the driver's seat. The engine roared at the policemen as they came towards the car. Ducky looked like he was in the most trouble. An officer lunged at him. He moved quickly to get out of the way, but at the same time, shoved the man towards the water.

The police officer had no balance. He fell over the cliff and took an eighteen foot dive into the pleasantly cool lake water below. Every single person there stopped and looked at him. Ducky and Jenny used this to their advantage, reacting faster and slipping into the car before they could surround it. Gibbs sped off as soon as the door was closed. The air was whistling through the open window as Gibbs pushed the car to do 110 mph. The police cars behind them were rushing up fast with their sirens blaring.

"They're gaining on us!" Jenny shouted at Gibbs anxiously.

He didn't reply, but swerved into another street at the last minute, throwing most of the cars off their route. It was then that Jenny really regretted her choice in automobile. The little blue car could not handle the intensity of a Gibbs car chase.

* * *

**So some more action up next chapter. Just how do they escape the cops. And a bit more Jibbs for good measure.**

**Please review.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks to those who reviewed. Jibbs at the end of this chapter by popular demand.**

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.**

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**Chapter Five**

_9 August 2000_

_Streets of Carcassonne, Languedoc-Roussillon Region, France_

_5.08 p.m. (1608 GMT)_

Gibbs was lost, pissed off and nobody in the car was brave enough to argue with him. The sirens had been following them for ten minutes and Gibbs had pulled every stunt in the book to try and lose the vivacious police force. Regardless of Ducky's many warnings, he still led them into the fortress city of Carcassonne, even managing to reach a speed of 60 mph on the narrow streets. Narrow was an understatement. Their boxy Renault Clio just fit across the streets, never mind the police cars which were using the sidewalk as well. The atmosphere was alight in the citadel, which was not good news for any of the drivers. People were strewn everywhere, ignoring the urgency of the sirens or the roars of the engines.

Then they heard gunshots. The policemen in the vehicles were actually firing on them. Gibbs dragged Jenny down and Ducky hit the deck as the back window shattered, spraying them all with glass.

"Hang on!" Gibbs shouted as he pulled out of the alley, sped across the width of a two-lane road with traffic and swerved into another alley. It didn't work. Four marked vehicles were directly behind them.

"Dammit," Gibbs cursed under his breath. He took the next corner hard, knocking over a row of parked motorcycles and scooters.

"Turn right. Right!" Jenny yelled at him, pointing to a small alley way that led to another part of the city. None of them knew their way out of the ravine.

One of the cars came up on their left as they turned out of the alley and on to the two-way street. It rammed into the passenger side. Jenny squealed loudly and edged closer to Gibbs. He reacted by swerving into another alley to escape.

"God, I need coffee," Gibbs swore under his breath.

"This isn't working, Jethro," Jenny told him in a slightly petrified voice. She looked up at him with painful eyes.

They couldn't see any of the police cars, but they could still hear them. It would not be long before they were found again.

"I know," Gibbs admitted. He looked around quickly and found an open garage door. Smiling to himself at his own wit, he drove the battered car into the garage and got out.

"Are we ditching our ride?" Jenny asked sceptically.

"You got a better idea, Jen?" Gibbs shot back.

"I should think not," Ducky put in, anxious to put a lid on their fight before it amounted to anything. "We can escape to the countryside and hitch a ride to a city from there."

"I agree with Ducky's plan," Gibbs put in.

Jenny looked from Gibbs to Ducky, knowing full well that it was two against one. She had little choice now but to agree with them, even though she didn't like the plan. She knew how easily they could get lost. "Fine," she shot out finally.

They quickly removed their ready bags and anything else that could be traced directly to them from the car, closed the garage door and set off down the pathway towards the outer rims of the castle city. For someone who'd never been to Carcassonne before, Ducky sure knew a lot about it, enough to lead them in the right direction and out to the Languedoc countryside. In the distance they could hear the sirens circling. Gibbs had hoped to buy them at least half an hour by hiding their rental in the garage. He also found himself hoping that luck would be on their side that night.

---

_9 August 2000_

_2 miles south of Cèpie, Languedoc-Roussillon Region, France_

_8.46 p.m. (1946 GMT)_

Jenny was still shocked about how many miles they'd travelled since they fled from Carcassonne. Gibbs and Ducky had had the bright idea of hijacking a speed boat from the marina and sailing downstream along the Aude River. With the strong current, they'd covered twelve miles in about an hour, allowing for all the many twists and turns and white water. Leaving the boat at a makeshift dock, they disembarked on to the eastern shore of the river and, carrying their heavy bags with them, walked in a south-easterly direction towards the farmland. The sun had gone down and they were relying on their heavy duty torch lights and the moon to guide their way through the empty plains.

"Did you have another plan, Special Agent Gibbs?" Jenny asked, running a little to catch up to his lead. As a former Marine, she was sure that he was used to the terrain, but the uphill battle was getting progressively difficult for her. "Other than run from Carcassonne?"

Gibbs stopped walking suddenly, but didn't turn around to look at her. Ducky, who was lagging behind with most of the equipment, also stopped, not saying a word, but intrigued by the exchange between them. He had suspected since they'd joined up the day before that something had gone amiss between them. A wayward relationship was high up on his list of probabilities.

"Are you saying that we should have stayed there?" Gibbs asked with a mocking, incredulous look on his face. He turned around and smiled at her.

"Don't smile at me!" Jenny shot back angrily. "You have no plan, we don't even know where we are or how many people are after us or even why."

"We know why. Ducky threw a cop over a cliff." And to emphasise his point, he waved his left arm wildly in Ducky's direction. "You and I broke into a federal agency."

"Don't get cute with me, Jethro," Jenny warned into a low and dangerous voice. "Where the _hell_ are we going?"

Gibbs sighed, planting his signature look on her.

"There's a farmhouse about a mile and a half ahead," Ducky put in with a small voice, flashing his torchlight in that direction. Trying to stop the two NCIS agents from jumping down each other's throats, he walked between them and led the way. "Abandoned by the looks of it."

Gibbs didn't need to say anything as he turned to Jenny. His face said it all. Still fuming, she pushed past him and walked ahead towards the farmhouse. He shrugged her off and followed Ducky after her.

"What is the plan, Jethro?" Ducky asked in a near whisper.

"It's late, the sun's gone down and the temperature is dropping rapidly. We're going to find shelter for the night and, tomorrow, we will head east back to Narbonne."

"They'll be looking for us in Narbonne," Jenny called back, acknowledging that she could hear their conversation. She turned around and flashed her light over them. "I think that we should head north-west to Toulouse and find transport from there back to Paris."

"It's over fifty miles to Toulouse, Jen. We may as well run south over the Spanish border and find transport to Rota. Why should we go back to Paris? We'll be sitting ducks."

"Because we still haven't solved this case," Jenny snarled back. "You can run, but I know you won't. Matthew Bellings was my agent and I want to know who killed him and why. We're not leaving." And with that she stormed, not saying another word to them until they reached the farmhouse.

The wooden structure was not large, more in the area of a small barn. It smelled strongly of moisture and soiled hay, but it provided good shelter and blocked out most of the chilly wind. Ducky walked into one corner, dropping the three bags that he was carrying and looked around, taking in his surroundings.

"This reminds me of this hut I was staying in a few years ago in a northern province of India known as Rajasthan," Ducky reminisced as he laid half bales of hay down on the cold, dirt floor. Jenny slipped outside without the doctor noticing and Gibbs soon followed her. Ducky continued his tale for several minutes before looking up and noticing that they'd left him alone. He sighed, muttered something about spooks and lay down on the hay, a travel blanket pulled over the top of him. He drifted off to the sullen sounds of the southern French night not long after. Meanwhile, Jenny and Gibbs were heating up their discussion outside in the frosty cool breeze.

"If we head back to Paris, we run the risk of being caught by the French police," Gibbs told her, maintaining his stance on travelling east. "We should head to Cannes, where Bellings' operation was based out of."

"Haven't you read the case file?! Corrupt officers in the _Police Nationale_ are more than likely responsible for Matthew's death. They're the same officers that sent the local LEOs after us."

"Matthew?! Were you sleeping with him?"

"Why would you ask me that, Gibbs?! What is it to you anyway?"

Gibbs sighed and walked over to a log a few metres away from them. He sat down on it and placed his chins in his hands. "Rule number twelve, never date a co-worker."

"When did you come up with that one?" Jenny shot back at him, taking a few steps towards the log but not sitting down.

"I think you know when."

Jenny was silent. She gave him one last longing look and then walked around the corner on to the east side of the farmhouse. Gibbs followed her almost immediately, just like she knew he would.

"Leave me alone, Jethro," Jenny warned him without out turning around to look at him. Her elbows were resting on a short wooden fence as she watched nocturnal wildlife scatter through the fields in the white light of the full moon's presence.

He could hear the pain in her voice, the sense of an impossible loss. For two days now, he hadn't given Stephanie a second thought. Jenny consumed his every waking, and dormant, moment. She was always, and sometimes the only thing, on his mind. He knew that it wasn't right, it wasn't fair, but it was the truth. He never really stopped loving her, but it was a fact that he'd long since forced himself to deny.

Not tonight though. Tonight they were together, hunted by ruthless criminals, and all alone outside while Ducky slept inside. He walked up slowly behind her, pressing his body only lightly against her own. She reacted immediately, letting herself fall back to him and raising her head to fit underneath his chin. The smell of her hair and the touch of her body were intoxicating him, but in a moment of clear thought, he pulled away, whispering softly in her ear. "I can't."

Jenny pushed herself forward right away, the rejection of her touch too much for her to bear. Gibbs looked at her as the moonlight shone upon her face. He knew her eyes were tearing, a sight that ripped his heart from his chest and threatened to stab it with a silver stake. He swallowed hard as he tucked a loose piece of her vibrant red hair behind her ear. She turned to face him, looking up with solemn and desiring eyes.

Gibbs said nothing, but lowered his lip to hers, placing a soft, lingering kiss on her ready and juicy lips. It did not take long for Jenny to return the kiss wholeheartedly and for the situation to heat up. His tongue wiped over her lips demandingly, begging for entrance. She obliged happily, attacking the walls of his mouth with her own tongue. Their distinct taste and texture brought back memories from a year ago.

Gibbs dropped his hands from around her neck and head to her waist and leaned her up against the dingy, eroding fence pole. Her hands were gripping his face. They broke the kiss briefly for air. He dropped his head, placing soft kisses along her jaw line and down her neck. Jenny moaned softly, throwing her head back. He continued the kisses down her neckline and along the edge of her bra. His hands meanwhile, teased her lower back and navel as they dove under her very risqué top.

"Jethro," Jenny groaned in the same soft voice as her fingers ran through his hair. She brought him back up to kiss her lips and, at the same time, attempted to undo his belt as she grinded her hips against his.

But something sparked in Gibbs' mind to stop it all. He pulled away from the kiss and grabbed her hands away from his groin. He averted his gaze downwards, unable to look at her for fear of another relapse. He tried to remind himself of the pain he felt when she left, the nights he drank himself to sleep and the days he wandered around in a daze. He hoped that it would make it easier for him to do what he had to now. The words came tumbling out in the form of soft whispers. "I'm sorry, Jen. I shouldn't be doing this. I can't be doing this." And with that, he let go of her and walked back into the entrance of the farmhouse.

He lit a small fire in the middle of the room and sat in front of it, watching his life over the past year and a half pass him by in the flames. Jenny didn't come in for at least twenty minutes and, when she did, he could tell that she'd been crying. Her face nearly brought tears to his own eyes, so he quickly averted his gaze. Jenny laid down on a low bed of hay on the other side of the room. She closed her eyes soon after and pretended to sleep, but Gibbs knew that she couldn't. She was shivering so much so that he stood up and walked over to her, lying down next to her and throwing his coat, and some of his body, over her to conduct heat. She didn't say anything, in fact, she refused to acknowledge his presence at all, but she did eventually drift off to sleep, feeling safer and warmer than ever in his arms.

* * *

**So next chapter.... Jibbs get fired up once again. Ah, resolving all that UST.**

**Reviews please.**


	6. Chapter 6

**It's something of a miracle that I managed to update today, but the temperature dropped by almost half and it was cool enough to breathe again. I spent the weekend either at work or sitting underneath an air conditioning vent, but this morning I walked outside and could smell rain instead of smoke and was very grateful for the weather change. So I managed to write this chapter today. Enjoy.**

**It's a shorter chapter and also empty of a lot of dialogue so bear with me.**

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.**

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**Chapter Six**

_10 August 2000_

_3 miles south-east of Cèpie, Languedoc-Roussillon Region, France_

_6.12 a.m. (0512 GMT)_

The gentle chirping of summertime birds roused Gibbs from his sleep the following morning. It was cool and refreshing, but the terrible sleep that he'd had the night before made him want to stay in the arms of his ex-lover. She'd rolled over during the night, unintentionally nestling herself in his strong, unwavering grip and he'd let her, knowing full well that it was something he was not likely to feel again for a long time.

Her weight shifted closer to him and he knew it was time to bail out gracefully. Moving just an inch at a time, Gibbs slid out from underneath her grip, replaced the travel blanket on top of her partly exposed body and walked out into the freshness of the Southern French morning. It was an uninhabited oasis of calm and isolation that was too good to last. He'd finally given into agreeing with Jenny – they were going to travel north-west to Toulouse and get faster transport to Paris. He still didn't know how they would get to Toulouse or how they'd be able to travel by train or plane to Paris when their faces were probably all over the Interpol database, or at least the _Police Nationale_ most wanted list, but they'd made it a habit of taking things as they come and they weren't about to stop now.

And so, after both Ducky and Jenny had been fully awakened, they set off back to their abandoned boat in the Aude River, hoping it would still be there, and letting luck rule their hearts, they made a plan to get to Toulouse.

"Oh good, it's still there," Jenny pointed out needlessly as they approached the boat. Climbing in quickly, Gibbs fired up the speedboat's rudder, pushing them quickly through the slow-flowing river. They were travelling south to Limoux so that they could avoid Carcassonne when travelling north-west to Toulouse. It did not take long to arrive at a small marina just north of the town of Limoux. They abandoned the boat in a hidden bushy area and walked towards the main highway, D623, and waited on the side of the road, hoping to hitch a ride with a semi-trailer or something similar.

They were in luck again, feeling like a higher power was really on their side on this operation. Gibbs didn't know just how long their luck would hold out but he was going to rely on it for just a little bit longer. A heavy French trucker pulled over to the side and picked them up. He was headed north to Castelnaudary and left them in small town of Prioulle, where they bought a very dilapidated small car from a local merchant. Jenny sensed that the transaction was not entirely legal, but they had gone well past the stage of legitimate business. Ignoring her screaming moral code, she hopped into the passenger seat of the old car and they set off north-west to Toulouse, joining the major motorway, A61, and arrived in the city not long after.

"Are we abandoning this car, too?" Jenny asked Gibbs after they parked outside the train station.

Gibbs stepped out of the car and leant on its roof, looking over at them. "Only if we can't get onto the train."

Conversation between them had been strained since the night before and Ducky had noticed this, but gracefully chose not to say anything. They silently tramped across the station towards the ticketing office. Gibbs stepped up and spoke, in English, to the woman on the other side of the glass. She nodded at his request and brought up the information on her computer screen. Gibbs and Ducky were discussing breakfast, but Jenny was watching the woman type the information in and noticed the subtle change in her expression. She sensed something was wrong and looked anxiously at Gibbs. He seemed unperturbed by the look on his ex-partner's face and turned his attention back to the window.

Jenny took a few steps back from them, her face now unreadable as she contemplated whether or not they'd been found out. Well, whether or not Gibbs and Ducky had been discovered. The French still did not adequately know of her involvement and Jenny knew this. She was travelling under false papers with several different and very plausible alias'. If the authorities picked up her two comrades, she would be able to pursue the case without the scrutiny of the National Police.

Her thoughts were interrupted and her mind dragged back into reality when she noticed a group of French local police officers pointing in their direction and then moving towards them. They were about two hundred metres away, giving Jenny plenty of time to plan and execute an escape. She walked up to Gibbs and interrupted his conversation with Ducky. "I left something in the car. Can I have the keys?"

Gibbs looked at her shrewdly but didn't question her urgency. Not even for a second did he consider that she was about to abandon them and let them be arrested. He passed the keys over and watched her walk away. Well, hurry away, because she was moving very quickly towards the exit.

Jenny tried hard not to run or look like she was in a hurry, but she could not let herself be seen by the police officers or let any witnesses know where she was going. So she was walking at an Olympic pace without looking like she was in a rush. She crossed the road and looked back. Three officers were shoving Gibbs out of the station in cuffs with a cuffed Ducky not far behind as well. His eyes shot up as he noticed her but didn't say anything. Jenny glared back at him for a second but then averted her gaze and ducked behind their car. She remained there until she heard the sirens in the distance, racing back towards their precinct. Emotions were overcoming her all at once but she did her best to ignore them and focused on the job at hand.

But she didn't know where to start. Maybe having Gibbs arrested wasn't the best idea. It kept the National Police off of her back while she investigated but there was a reason Director Morrow had sent him and Ducky out to France in the first place. Now she had to solve the case alone.

Well, perhaps not entirely alone, she thought with a smile. Pulling out her phone, she scrolled down to the name of another up-and-coming NCIS agent that she's worked with before and could trust.

"_Vance,"_ a deeper voice drawled through the phone.

"Leon, it's Jenny."

"_Somebody's in trouble,"_ he joked in a highly amused tone.

Jenny was growing frustrated and jumped right into her reason for calling, shutting out all the small talk. "Gibbs and Dr Mallard have been arrested by the National Police. I need to know where they've been taken."

"_Okay, where did they get arrested?"_

"Toulouse. About five minutes ago."

Vance didn't answer her right away but she could hear him typing something in at a rapid speed. It was another minute before he said anything to her. _"Just so you know, when I get into trouble for hacking into the _Police Nationale_ database, I'm blaming you for it. Have you got anything on the case yet?"_

"We have the case file but a lot of things don't add up," Jenny answered, pulling out the file as she mentioned it. Thankfully, she was carrying the bags with the pertinent information and equipment and Gibbs and Ducky were carrying the other essentials, like clothing. She could survive a few days with just the clothes on her back, but she couldn't solve the case without the intelligence reports and case files they'd collected or stolen. "The police here have initiated a cover-up, of that much we can tell. The way they interviewed witnesses and then ensured their silence coupled with the fact that they're looking for us."

"_Anything from the crime scene report?"_

She could still hear him typing rapidly as he spoke. "Four shots to the chest, tight coupling, 9mm rounds. They found a weapon not far off, a Beretta 92G, and matched the rounds to the gun, but it was wiped clean of prints."

"_Before or after they figured out who killed your agent?"_

"What do you mean?" Jenny shot out quickly. Did Vance just say that the French knew who killed Matthew?! Her thoughts were raging through her mind.

"_The Beretta 92G was designed specifically for the French military, paramilitary and Gendarmerie, including the National Police,"_ Vance answered as though it were obvious and then stopped typing. _"And it looks like they're taking them to Paris. Chartered flight. They'll be there soon."_

Jenny's mind was reeling with both revelations. "Right, thank you, Leon."

"_I know, you owe me."_ And he hung up.

Jenny lowered the phone to her side, lost in thought as she contemplated the last few days. It had been too easy to get those crime scene reports and case files, so was somebody setting up a trap for them or trying to help them? And how did they know that the first place the NCIS agents would head to was Carcassonne to speak with Pierre Duvonne? And for how long were they planning to arrest Gibbs and Ducky? Since they landed at CDG and were recognised as foreign investigative agents? There were so many questions that still needed answering but the biggest one in Jenny's mind was who killed Matthew Bellings and why.

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**Well, I can see the trust issue that Gibbs had with Jenny in 'Model Behaviour' now. **

**Review please and brighten my blearing sunshine of a day. :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry about the long time between updates but I had to work. So without further ado, here's the next chapter.**

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.**

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**Chapter Seven**

_10 August 2000_

_Unknown Location in Paris_

_11.23 p.m. (2223 GMT)_

Light. It was the first thing he registered as his eyes flickered open ever so softly and slowly. There was a shimmer of light flicking on and off from the lantern above his head. Still groggy and unfocused from whatever drug they administered to him after his capture, Gibbs gradually started to become more aware of his surroundings as his senses unclouded. He lifted his head off his chest and stared around him. The four walls around him comprised of old brickwork, covered in moss from the moisture he could hear dripping from the cemented ceiling. There was a stench of decay filling his nostrils and, even worse, an overwhelming sense of dread filling his gut. The table in front of him looked unable to sustain the weight of his arms, let alone anything else. The termite-ravaged timberwork left little support for the bench, leaving its occupation in the cellar superfluous.

Gibbs knew that he'd been taken to Paris, but he didn't know where, nor could he determine the whereabouts of his two colleagues. He remembered Jenny's face when he was arrested. She knew it was coming. She obviously knew something he didn't. She wasn't surprised, not even remotely, when he was dragged on to the street in handcuffs and shoved into the back of a police vehicle. Did this mean that she knew and couldn't do anything to stop it or she knew and wouldn't do anything to stop it, he wondered.

He shifted his weight again, uncomfortable in the metal chair with his hands cuffed behind his back and each ankle cuffed to a leg of the chair. He knew that he was being left there to stew. The French police were using his own interrogation techniques on him. At least they are getting something right, he told himself with a small smirk. He'd no idea how long they'd left him there already and he had no clue as to how long they would leave him there now. Unable to ascertain whether they knew he was awake, he called out, but to no avail. He could tell the room was soundproof and it definitely echoed. There were no security cameras in the room and Gibbs had a sneaking suspicion why.

However, he did not have to wait very long for someone to come by. One man, wearing a black suit and tie with a straight face and a short haircut, walked into the room about fifteen minutes after Gibbs woke up. He pulled one of the remaining chairs that were leant up against the brick wall in front of the desk opposing Gibbs and sat down, the back of the chair facing forwards. He didn't have a file with him. He didn't even have a piece of paper. And, as far as Gibbs could tell, he didn't have a voice. He had yet to say a word and Gibbs had a feeling that this was only the beginning of a very long and painful interrogation.

In reply, Gibbs also said nothing, instead waiting for another man, this one in a dark grey suit with longer dark hair, to walk in.

"You wanna tell me why I've been arrested?" Gibbs shot at the other man. "And why I've been cuffed like this?"

"We considered you a danger, Special Agent Gibbs," the newcomer told him in excellent English, with only the faintest trace of a French accent. Obviously the man had studied in an English-speaking country, probably the United Kingdom, Gibbs thought.

"We still do," the man in black suit added in a drawl. His English was far more accented and his voice was not quite as pleasant. The look on his battered face told Gibbs that the man wanted nothing more than to beat him to a pulp.

"You didn't answer my first question," Gibbs stated plainly, looking firmly at the man in the grey suit.

"This is true," the same man answered. He nodded to his colleague, who stood up and walked over to wall, leaning very coolly against it. He then flipped the chair around and sat opposite Gibbs. "For all intents and purposes, you may call me Agent Smith. I am accompanied by Mr Jones. Are we clear?"

"You're holding me against the laws of your country and mine and you don't want me to know your names," Gibbs answered unperturbedly. "Inescapably clear."

"Very good, Agent Gibbs," Smith responded with a small smirk. This man had a file with him. He placed it on the desk in front of Gibbs and slowly opened it. "You arrived three days ago on a commercial flight from Washington D.C. with your colleague, Dr. Donald Mallard-"

"Where is he?" Gibbs pushed in an angry voice, cutting Smith off.

Smith's face broke into a wide smile. He was happy that he could get a reaction out of Gibbs so quickly. "We are considering pursuing more... official channels for your friend. After all, he threw a fellow officer off a cliff and into the lake below. He should be thankful that the man wasn't killed."

"Right, so why am I here?" Gibbs asked again, hoping to get a better answer this time. Persistence was a plan of attack that he was planning to use. Eventually, Gibbs hoped, Smith would divulge some information hat was actually of use to him.

"You are here, Agent Gibbs, because three _Police Nationale_ officers were murdered on the night of your arrival and I know your only alibi is the man in the other room. Unless there was someone else with you?"

"No."

"Then who was the woman with you in Carcassonne?" Smith prompted knowledgeably. Gibbs could tell that he was trying to lead him into a trap and he wasn't going to fall for it.

"A tag-along," Gibbs replied after a second's silence, his face unrevealing.

"Her name?"

Gibbs smiled and didn't answer.

"You would never tell me her true name anyway, would you?"

Again, Gibbs smiled at him and said nothing.

"What about the three police officers you and your friend, Dr Mallard, killed on the 7th of August?" Smith asked, jumping back to his first point.

"If you had any evidence of that, I would not be here in a room with no security cameras, Agent Smith. So tell me, why am I really here?"

---

_11 August 2000_

_Hotel de Jour, 12 rue de Sèverine, Paris_

_12.17 a.m. (2317; 10/08/2000 GMT)_

The bellman helped Jenny carry the two bags of heavy equipment and her ready bag up to her recently booked hotel room on the eighth floor. She bought and paid for the room under the name of a new alias, Ginny Tipps, and walked very quietly to the elevator with the help. She was growing increasingly wary about using the same alias more than once and was now dipping into her emergency stash. The man left her bags just inside the door and she paid him a substantial tip before opening the door for him to leave. He bowed his head slightly at her and walked out.

Jenny surveyed the room around her, her eyes almost instantly eyeing the bed. After the previous night's sleep on the hard, dirt floor of a barn in Southern France, followed by the six and a half hour drive from Toulouse back to Paris, she was so exhausted that sleep was the only thing she could think of doing right now. But she knew that she couldn't. Not while Gibbs and Ducky were in French police custody and she was no closer to solving Bellings' murder.

She picked up her bag and walked into the bathroom, taking a longer shower than was necessary, but she wanted to wash the dirt from the past two days off of her body. Changing into a tracksuit quickly, she pulled her long hair up into a bun and picked up her bag to walk back out of the room.

It was completely unexpected. She didn't even see the hand come around the back of her neck and only felt it when it was clasped tightly over her mouth. Even though she was struggling with all of her might, she was pulled back into to the bathroom. The intruder, who was wearing a black hooded jumper and a pair of dark jeans, locked the bathroom door behind him and quickly turned the shower on to full burst.

He turned back to Jenny, who was trying hard to come up with a plan to get around the man blocking the door, and removed the hood. Jenny looked up at him and stopped struggling. His light blue eyes told her very clearly that he was not there to harm her.

"Special Agent Shepard, you are in grave danger," he told her in no more than a whisper.

"From somebody other than you?" she shot back rather angrily.

"Please keep your voice down," he pleaded in a low voice. She could hear the French accent in his voice, but he still spoke excellent English. "My name is Alexandre DuPonte. I work for the _Direction central du renseignement intèrieur_. French intelligence, Madame."

"That doesn't tell me what you want," Jenny hissed back.

"I was working with your agent, Matthew Bellings, on an operation involving arms smuggling across the French Riviera. We uncovered that there were several corrupt policemen working for the _Police Nationale_ that were aiding the smuggling operations."

"You left that file on the desk of the case-officer at the DCPJ headquarters two days ago?" Jenny asked, following his lead and whispering.

"Yes," DuPonte replied. "I could not walk out of the building with it, but I saw you and Agent Gibbs come in and I knew that you could."

"Why are you trying to help us?"

DuPonte drew in a breath and looked at her like she'd offended him. "There are good law enforcement officials in my country, Agent Shepard, and I would like to preserve our good name. I want to do away with these criminals that killed your agent."

"My colleagues were arrested," she told him anxiously, hoping that he could help her there.

"I can help you get them out as soon as we find evidence to bring these men to justice. Then I suggest that you go to your embassy or flee the country. I will be able to get the charges against them dropped, but not that quickly."

"What will happen to you? Won't they come after you once you expose the operation?"

"They probably will, but it will be worth it," DuPonte told her proudly. "I am not afraid." He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "We will meet at 0900 at this address. Do not be late and make sure you aren't followed." And he left without even allowing Jenny to thank him. The water was still running when she checked the address and then replaced the piece of paper in her pocket. She turned off the tap and walked into her room, locking the front door and lying on top of the sheets on her bed. But she could not sleep, not while Ducky and Gibbs were in prison.

Try as she might, her thoughts were continuously dragged back to the previous night. The night she'd spent alone outside with Gibbs. She revelled in his touch as the thoughts came flowing back to her and instantly missed him the moment she opened her eyes. Cursing herself, she pulled out her computer and began to read the months of background information that Bellings had reported back on the French Riviera arms smuggling case. She did everything she could not to think about Gibbs and what could have been.

* * *

**So what do you think? Let me know please. Review!**

**Coming up in the next chapter- Gibbs finds out just how bad the interrogation can get and more super-spy action from Jenny and her newfound ally.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.**

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**Chapter Eight**

_11 August 2000_

_Jardine du Luxembourg, Paris _

_8.58 a.m. (0758 GMT)_

A sunny, warm morning greeted the Parisians the next day. Unlike the previous three days of colder weather, this Thursday morning the sun's rays were not only brightening up the day, but shedding glimmers of warmth on to the exposed skin of the city's inhabitants. It was a terrific day to be outside and most people were. Jenny blended in easily with the crowd of tourists gathering under the cascading shade of the palm trees in the Luxembourg Gardens, gazing intently at the intricate and beautiful architecture and design of the building in front of her, _Le Palais de Luxembourg._

But something else caught her eye almost immediately. She felt a chill run down her spine and instantly knew that she was being watched, targeted, almost hunted. Moving her body around to face away from the palace, she saw the man that had visited her the night before staring in her direction. So somebody was watching me, she told herself proudly. He nodded at her softly and then walked to the other side of the gardens, weaving through some dense trees. Jenny followed him, but not too closely behind, until he stopped in a very small and secluded grassy area.

"Agent Shepard," he announced for her in an overly welcoming manner.

"Mr DuPonte," she replied courteously. "Shall we skip the pleasantries and move on?"

"Of course. We shall jump right in, as you Americans say." He pulled a manila file out of the briefcase he was carrying and flipped it open, showing Jenny the contents. "Matthew and I tracked down the names and contacts list of those officers we determined to be involved in this operation using a confidential informant, who was killed two days after the fact."

"Your _confidential_ informant was killed?" Jenny questioned in a desperate and barely audible whisper.

"Yes, which further lead us to believe that officers in the DCPJ were involved. Our informant was the wife of another officer. Her husband was one of the local police officers contracted to, well, Matthew used to say, do the dirty work. Does that phrase mean something to you?"

"The husband was a hired gun then?"

"As far as we could tell, yes," DuPonte answered, shutting the file closed. "Matthew was killed three days after she was. Right here in Paris."

"I thought he was killed in Carcassonne?!" Jenny ejected, now thoroughly confused with the mess that her agent got her into.

"And that is what they wanted you to believe. There is wealthy old Monsieur that lives in a large property just outside the Citè of Carcassonne that was once owned by the Trencavel family. What is less well-known about him is that he became so wealthy through illegitimate business."

"Crimelord?" Jenny asked, sensing the direction the conversation was taking. "Was he involved in this smuggling operation too?"

"No, but the DCPJ officials involved want you to think that he killed your agent," DuPonte answered quickly. He took another look around to make sure nobody could see or hear him. "I don't know exactly what happened in Carcassonne, but I don't think that they got to dispose of the body as planned and couldn't adequately tie the murder back to Benoit. That's why they worked so hard against letting you and your agents investigate Matthew's murder here."

"Wait a sec," Jenny threw in, now completely confused and her face showing it. "The old man in Carcassonne? Benoit? As in René Benoit?"

"Yes, do you know him?"

Jenny's brain was now shotting out at her at a million miles an hour. She most definitely had heard of him but never had the opportunity, or the means, to track him down. After all, he was the reason she joined NCIS. "He's wanted in connection with another NCIS case," Jenny lied, though not entirely convincingly.

DuPonte seemed to have missed her lie. "Well, you can't apprehend him now. Matthew had evidence to take down the weapons smuggling ring and that is why he was killed. We need to find this evidence and then get you and your friends out of the country before you're also killed. I do not want more American blood on my hands."

Jenny nodded, not entirely listening to what he had said. She was still reeling from the revelation that this case may finally lead her to La Grenouille after five years of trying to find him. And, even if it cost her her life, she was not going to leave there without exacting revenge on the man who'd stolen everything.

"Did Matthew leave you anything in his reports that could have hinted where he got the information from?" DuPonte asked, interrupting Jenny's thoughts.

She snapped her attention back to the task at hand and pulled a file out of her very large handbag. "The intelligence reports he sent our agency were not very detailed, but he mentioned a warehouse in Paris was being leased by a company owned by a suspect's father."

"A warehouse? I did not know this. What is the name of the suspect?"

"It just says DRC on the report."

DuPonte nodded. "Officer Didier Raoul Corentin, _la Direction Centrale de la Police Judiciaire_. Matthew said that he was a major player in this operation. I don't entirely know what that means. When was the report dated?"

"5 August 2000," Jenny answered, reading off the file. "Day before he died."

"I was in Marseille at the time," DuPonte told her solemnly. "If I'd been here in Paris, Matthew would not have gone to this warehouse alo-"

Jenny cut him off by softly placing a hand on his crossed arms. "This was not your fault, Alexandre."

DuPonte gazed back at her in reply, his eyes indicating that he'd heard her, but it did not remove the guilty look from his face.

"Let's find this warehouse now and check it out," Jenny suggested with an excited smile on her face. DuPonte returned the smile and followed her eagerly to her parked rental car.

---

_11 August 2000_

_Unknown Location in Paris_

_9.16 a.m. (0816 GMT)_

The only light in the cell was coming from the single bulb above his head that was constantly, and annoyingly, flickering on and off. Gibbs had long since lost track of time, feeling like he'd been locked up in the same chair at the same desk in the same room with bars for days. He did not know that it was only the next morning. There was no window in his room and, he sensed, that he was locked up below the ground floor of the building, meaning there was no windows visible to him at all.

He knew that they'd left him alone for at least a few hours by now. Probably letting me cool off before the next beating, he wondered to himself. As the interrogating agent, Smith, seemed to get less and less out of him, the other beefy agent, Jones, would get angrier and angrier. At one point, Gibbs' answer was so far off on to another tangent of the conversation that Jones walked over quickly, almost sprinted over, and fired a right hook across his face so powerful that he felt like he'd been hit by a train. But Gibbs didn't relent. His answers to the same questions asked over and over again slowly got more off topic and Jones once again lost it, slamming Gibbs face into the table and nearly breaking it. Well, Gibbs felt his nose break, but not the table. It was surprisingly strong for a termite-ridden chunk of wood.

He was slowly starting to understand why he was being held. From what he could piece together, the agents questioning him were definitely not doing anything legitimate and were probably involved in the weapons smuggling operation and Matthew Bellings' death themselves. They seemed to think that Gibbs had learnt to much about what Bellings' was investigating and what he'd discovered, but, truth be told, he hadn't learnt that much. He'd actually discovered more about the unlawful dealings of members of the French Judicial Police over the past few hours of being interrogated by them than he had over the past few days of investigating them. Ironic, isn't it, he laughed to himself.

He nearly chuckled loudly, inwardly fearing that he was starting to go mad, but was very glad that he managed to keep silent as the two agents he was very familiar with, Smith and Jones, unlocked the door to his cell and walked back inside, taking their previous positions in the room—Smith on the other side of the desk to Gibbs and Jones up against the wall.

"Who's up for round two?" Gibbs joked, looking cheekily from Smith to Jones. They had unimpressed looks on their faces.

"Moulded things over, have you, Gibbs?" Smith asked in an overly ostentatious voice. It appeared that he thoroughly expected Gibbs to comply with their demands now. "Decided to cooperate with us now?" Smith shot him a smirk that reminded Gibbs that they still had one thing over him.

"Where is Dr Mallard?" Gibbs asked, the previous grin on his face now replaced with a staunch stare.

"Okay, Gibbs," Smith began. "We're done here, I guess. You and your colleague will be charged with the murders of three police officers today. Good luck in court." And he rose out his chair and walk out of the cell.

"If you make zit to court," Jones muttered to him with a smirk before following Smith out. Gibbs scorned at the man's heavyset French accent, but even more at the stench of scotch on his breath.

---

_11 August 2000_

_29 Quai de l'Ourcq, Pantin (just outside of Paris)_

_10.34 a.m. (0934 GMT)_

Jenny adjusted the lens on her binoculars to clarify her view of the abandoned warehouse on the other side of the canal. They had parked at a distance, on the other side of the footbridge, to their target building and had been staking it out for the past twenty minutes.

"Can you see anything interesting going on?" DuPonte asked.

"No," Jenny replied simply, still looking through her binoculars. "Nobody has gone in or out since we got here."

"That does not mean that nobody is in there."

"I know that, but we can't very well sit here all day," Jenny proclaimed in a highly annoyed voice. She was exhausted and not even the thought of catching La Grenouille could stimulate her movement. On the other hand, she knew that she had to act soon. Ducky and Gibbs were still being held by the DCPJ, possibly by the corrupt officers that killed her agent, in an unknown location in Paris.

"Agreed, not to say the least. I have found a way to get your friends out as soon as we're done here. They have been formally charged with three counts of murder and don't ask me to comment on whose because I don't know. I do know, however, that the DCPJ will be transporting them from Le Santè Prison to the Palais de Justice. It will be easiest to ensure their escape in the May Courtyard outside of the court."

"When?"

"1300 today," DuPonte answered, shutting down his laptop computer and putting it under his seat. "So we should get going."

Jenny nodded but didn't answer. She reached into the back seat and grabbed her crime scene camera to take photos for evidence as well as shoving a pair of gloves and a few evidence bags into her pocket. She smiled as she remembered Gibbs' rule number two—always wear gloves at a crime scene. Her face fell, however, when she remembered that he was relying on her to get him out.

DuPonte nodded to her and pulled his Beretta out from under his seat, clipping it into the holster at his waist. They climbed out of the car, took one last look to make sure the building appeared to be abandoned and set off across the footbridge.

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**Just a bit of a filler before some real action in the next chapter. Let me know what you think. Review, please.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry about the long time between updates, but I started back at uni this week and had neither the time nor the inclination to write.**

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.**

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**Chapter Nine**

_11 August 2000_

_29 Rue de la Distillerie, Pantin_

_11.05 a.m. (1005 GMT)_

Jenny and DuPonte perched themselves high up on the second floor of the warehouse, looking down on the bustling lower level with great trepidation. There had been a set of fire stairs on the side of the building which they snuck up, slid across the edge of the windowsill and then climbed through the window into an empty office inside. They skilfully moved, without being detected or heard, to an unused room a few metres from where they started and dragged out their surveillance equipment. Staking out the place so close to it, well inside of it, was always risky, so they only had with them the equipment they needed and could carry in case the need arose for a speedy getaway.

"That was easier than I thought it would be," DuPonte commented as he set up the video camera, navigating it through a gaping hole in the floor boards. He had a good view of the lower level and everything that was going down there.

Jenny, meanwhile, had crawled closer to the exit of the room with her camera. She turned around and whispered back at him. "Getting in was the easy part. Getting out unnoticed or getting away when we are will be the hard part."

DuPonte shrugged and looked back down through the view of his camcorder. "So, how long do you think we will be here? It doesn't look like there is much going on down there. Perhaps we should sneak past the two guards with Uzis and have a look at what's in those boxes."

Jenny turned her head around again very quickly and shot him a dark look. "No thanks, I choose life. Be patient, Alexandre, they will come. After everything that's happened in the past few days, I'm surprised that the merchandise is still here. They will be back and soon."

DuPonte sighed in frustration and boredom and moved back to poking into her social life. He still had ammo up his sleeve and he was prepared to use it. "Are you planning to bring up what happened between you and Matthew? Is that why you're searching for his killer?"

Jenny's head shot right up and she nearly dropped her camera.

DuPonte merely looked unabashed. "We worked together for several months, Jenny. I know that you were _that_ woman."

"Then why do you feel the need to ask if you already know everything?" Jenny shot back.

"I'm intrigued. You're putting your life on the line to solve the case that he couldn't as well as find his killer."

"They are one in the same."

"Maybe," DuPonte conceded. "But it's not necessary for you to put your own life at risk like this, especially when he so often referred to your affair as a rebound relationship. And yes, I do know what that is."

"I don't doubt your English," Jenny said in an obvious attempt to steer the conversation away from her relationship with Matthew Bellings.

"That is not the point here."

Jenny couldn't see an out so she remained silent and turned her focus back to their surveillance operation.

"Gibbs?" DuPonte asked after a few moments of silent. Jenny, once again, jumped slightly and looked at him, puzzled and angered. "Don't doubt my powers of observation either," DuPonte warned her with a smiled. "What I don't know is what happened between you and him. You're obviously going to great lengths to ensure his survival."

"I let him get arrested by the French police," Jenny commented through slightly gritted teeth. "The least I could do is break him out."

"Perhaps, but you and I both know there's more to the story."

Jenny shot him another dark look but was saved from answering when they heard raised voices coming from the floor below. They quickly turned the attention back to the task at hand as three men argued in the clearing of crates with several armed guards around them.

"The man in the black suit is a politician," DuPonte whispered to Jenny. "Jean-Baptiste de Larcy. He's a high-ranking member of the _Union pour un movement populaire_ in the National Assembly. I never had any hard evidence to prove his involvement, although Matthew and I always suspected it."

"What about the one in the military uniform?" Jenny asked in a low whisper. "Isn't that your naval uniform?"

"It is. _Capitaine de vaisseau_ Andrè Foucaine, senior coast guard official. Matthew and I already knew of his involvement. It's how they have been smuggling weapons in and out of France without investigation. They have insider knowledge of the operations of the Navy. And the other man is Didier Raoul Corentin, probably the head of the operation."

Jenny strained her ears to hear what they were saying, but as their conversation picked up, she had no issue with hearing them. It was in French, but she could hear the politician blaming Corentin for not stopping the American investigation earlier. Corentin told him that he was taking care of it, but the Navy Captain seemed sceptical. He was suggesting that they move the operation to Lyon, but de Larcy, the politician, expressed concerns that they would be picked up by Interpol for sure.

DuPonte, meanwhile, could feel the floorboards straining beneath him, but was far more interested in the argument going below him. He only moved quickly when he felt them snap. DuPonte jumped backwards quickly, taking the camcorder with him, and avoided falling through the now very large hole. But, unfortunately for him and Jenny, the large noise that escaped when the floorboards snapped did not go unnoticed by the three men on the ground level and their guards.

Jenny moved first, grabbing DuPonte by the arm and dragging him out of the room, on to the catwalk and back to the office that they entered through. She could hear the raging machine gunfire hurtling towards her as she ripped open the office's door and kicked through the opposing window. Quickly, but carefully, Jenny crawled out of the window and on to the ledge around the building. The fire stairs were about five feet from where she was standing, so, counting her blessings, she launched herself towards the staircase, jumping over a few feet of nothing but air, and managed to land awkwardly against the railing. DuPonte followed suit as she climbed over the railing and bolted down the stairs.

The armed guards were already outside of the building as they ran down the stairs, making an escape far more difficult. Jenny and DuPonte took cover from the gunfire behind a new, black Statesman-like vehicle, and guessed that it belonged to National Assembly Member de Larcy. Jenny finally removed her Sig from its holster and fired two shots at the guards, killing one instantly with a shot to the external jugular vein. This caused some panic in the less than well-trained guards and Jenny and DuPonte used the confusion to run towards the canal, using the footbridge to navigate over it as they had done earlier.

The guards recovered much faster than was expected and followed them in hot pursuit. DuPonte yelled to Jenny to run ahead to the car as he pulled something out of his pocket. Jenny was going to argue, but she knew that it wasn't the time, so she did as she was told and took off towards her rental. Suddenly, she heard an explosion behind her and the bridge shook violently. DuPonte yelled at her to run faster as she felt the bridge crumble beneath her.

"What did you do?!" Jenny ejected after she recovered from jumping off the end of the bridge and on to the footpath below.

"Relax, it was just a small charge," DuPonte told her with a smile as he too stood up from his jump off the falling bridge. Jenny looked back, realising that it was DuPonte that had caused the explosion, blocking off the guards path to follow them by taking out the footbridge. Jenny shook her head at him and jumped into the driver's side of the car.

"I hope you can drive fast, Jenny," DuPonte commented quickly as he jumped into the passenger side. "Because they will be right behind us."

Jenny nodded and started the engine up violently and pulled out in front of the oncoming traffic, surprising herself by her ability to drive quickly and dangerously. She almost smiled as she remembered all the car chases she'd been involved in with Gibbs throughout Europe, including the most recent one in Carcassonne. Snapping back into action, she was grateful to feel a surge of adrenaline explode through her body as she made a hard left around a parked vehicle and took another street back towards Paris.

Following them through the interweaving Paris traffic is exactly the course of action that Corentin's warehouse armed guards took. Less than a minute after moving her vehicle into the street, she spotted the same black, unmarked cars that she'd seen in the side alley next to the warehouse in her rear vision mirror and immediately knew that they had found her.

"Here they come," DuPonte stated needlessly, peering through the reflection of the passenger side mirror. "Turn right. HERE!"

"Okay, okay," Jenny huffed out calmly as she manoeuvred the car into the right lane and turned. She thought that she was driving very well given the circumstances. "So, what's the plan?"

"We lose these guys, rescue your friends from the corrupt officers holding them and race to the nearest border."

Jenny nearly slammed her foot on the brake when she heard him. "That's your plan! You're insane!"

"What do you suggest we do?" DuPonte asked her, mildly amused. "Make another left."

Jenny ignored his question and focused on wheeling the car around another tight bend at a high speed and shooting down the narrow alley before swerving out on to a main road back to Paris in front of several cars, all of whom honked their horns at her.

"Do you keep tabs on René Benoit?" Jenny asked as she coolly settled inconspicuously amongst the traffic on the major highway.

"Why do you ask? You're not planning on arresting him here, are you?" DuPonte shot her an incredulous look. "My plan to get you out of here is insane, yet you want to drag another unwilling participant with you. You're insane!"

"Firslty, racing to the border when guys with guns are chasing us is insane and secondly, I am not letting him get away from me again," she told him in a low voice, her eyes unwavering from the road ahead.

"I can't let you risk all of lives for this, Jenny. Not after Matthew gave his life."

"I'm not asking for your help, I'm asking you to find him," Jenny reiterated.

"That sounds like the same thing to me," DuPonte reasoned. He told himself that he would not back down from it, despite the formidable nature of the woman next to him. It was true, he wanted to see Benoit gone as well, but not when there was so much to be lost if he failed to get Jenny and her friends out of the country. Not just their lives, but the entire operation would be lost or dissolved. Corentin would never face charges. "The answer is no." He bent low to look through his side mirror. "They have found us again."

"These guys don't know when to give up," Jenny added, also looking in the rear vision mirror. She sped up and threw La Grenouille to the back of her mind.

"DUCK!" DuPonte cried all of a sudden. Jenny did so at once, still grasping the steering wheel firmly, as the back window shattered. Shaking his head, DuPonte ripped off his seat belt and turned around with his weapon at the ready. He fired two shots at the car that had fired on them, both hitting the bonnet.

"Is that the best you can do?" Jenny asked in a slightly annoyed tone. She was moving quickly through the traffic now, but tried hard not to swerve too much so that her comrade could get a decent shot off.

And so DuPonte fired another three shots at the car, all of which hit the tyres, splitting them immediately. The black car that was directly behind them swerved as the driver tried to gain control, but couldn't, and it slammed into the other black car, crushing it between the body of the original car and a railing.

Jenny looked impressed. He'd taken out two cars in the space of a few seconds. "Couldn't you do that earlier?"

DuPonte shrugged and turned his eyes back to the road ahead, his Beretta still in his hand. "It's twelve-thirty. I'll direct you to the courthouse."

"Won't they be expecting us there?"

DuPonte seemed unfazed by her question. "It doesn't matter either way. You're not going to get another chance to release your friends. It will be dangerous and risky now that they know that we're on to them, so I understand it if you would prefer me to drive you the German or Belgian border-"

"No," Jenny said, cutting him off. "There is no way in _hell_ that I am leaving Jethro and Ducky here. No matter what the cost."

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**Yes, I know that you haven't seen Ducky in a long time, but he and Gibbs will be back next chapter. Stay tuned and please review.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Okay, so first I need to apologise for how long it took me to update this chapter. I couldn't even believe that it was more than two weeks. Geez.... that went fast. Anyway, you should all really be thanking 4sweetdreams, who got me off my ass to write and post this next chapter. Only two more to go, probably, so I hope to be done with this story soon.**

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.**

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**Chapter Ten**

_11 August 2000_

_Boulevard de Palais, Paris_

_12.37 p.m. (1137 GMT)_

Their arrival at the courthouse was almost anti-climatic. No fireworks, or even sparks of any kind. Nothing. Nothing at all. Jenny and DuPonte remained in their dark rental parked on the opposite side of the street to the entrance of the courthouse, somewhat obscured by surrounding vehicles and the low hanging branches of the trees above. After the adrenaline rush of the past few minutes as they sped away from the warehouse and from the cars chasing them, leaving a trail of destruction behind, Jenny felt flushed with a familiar exhaustion, remembering that she hadn't slept well since she was safe in Gibbs' strong embrace two nights earlier.

"It's well past twelve-thirty," Jenny commented angrily for the third time. "Where the hell are they?"

"Have patience, they will be here," DuPonte reminded her again, his tone calming himself, but only unhinging Jenny more.

"How can you just sit here like that?! We need to be ready for when they do come, which could be any minute now!"

"I am preparing myself..." DuPonte replied in the same calm tone, his voice almost drifting off. "You should do the same."

Jenny bit back her retort and nodded instead, understanding the truth of his words. They were going to be outnumbered, two to at least half a dozen, probably twice that, with two unarmed prisoners to rescue safely in the middle of a busy and very public street. Their survival would be a miracle, but Jenny knew that each of them were committed to going down fighting, else they would never have placed themselves in the position to begin with. She knew that they could've gotten out of this long ago, after they escaped from Carcassonne. It was only a few miles east to Marseille where there was an NCIS office, or a few miles south to the Spanish border where they could find transport back to her own office in Rota, but they stayed. Jenny sensed that each of her companions, like her, had a great amount of courage, especially when the odds were so bleakly against them.

"Here we go," DuPonte muttered as he watched a prisoner transport vehicle pull up exactly opposite them. He flicked the safety off on his Beretta and opened the door, casually stowing the weapon away in his pants. Jenny copied him and hopped out of the driver's seat, leaving the keys in the ignition in case the need arose for a speedy getaway. She knew that it probably would.

DuPonte had already snaked along the side of the van, Jenny in tow, making sure that they were standing in the blind spot of the driver's passenger side window. They heard a door wrench open and a few men file out. DuPonte bravely snuck a glance around the back of the van to see the armed guards about to open the door. He sank back into his previous position and nodded to Jenny, hoping she knew what that hint was directing.

Meanwhile, in the back of the van, a solemn silence had gripped Gibbs and Ducky as they anticipated their fate. As they felt the van lurch to a halt, Ducky snuck a frightful glance at his companion. "The fact that we're getting a trial must work in our favour, right? Jethro?" Ducky knew that he his question was naive, but voicing that opinion actually calmed his nerves somewhat. It did little, however, for the brooding man sitting across from him.

"I doubt it, Duck. There is a lot off about their plan. Too much we don't know, but if I had to guess, I'd say they brought us here to be executed."

"In front of all these people?" Ducky asked incredulously, as if Gibbs had been blaspheming, but he also had the sinking feeling of dread.

"Like I said, there's a lot we don't know. Something's about to happen."

"Marie Antoinette was executed by the guillotine here," Ducky began, but stopped as they heard someone approach and open the doors. It was the guards that had taken them from whatever prison they had previously been held in to the van that transported to where they were now- the Palais de Justice.

Jenny, meanwhile, snuck around the front of the vehicle, attempting to look inconspicuous amongst a flock of tourists out the front of the gates to the May Courtyard and, at the same time, ducking from the view of the van's driver. She quickly manoeuvred around the front of the van, seeing one armed guard on the other side of the van, gripping his assault rifle and staring in the opposite direction to her. Skilfully, she moved towards him with grace and ease and brought her gun up to his temple. Training taught her to kill in these situations, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it. Without having the time to debate her "weakness" with another part of her brain, she flipped the gun around and brought the butt slamming down with all her might on to the man's temple. He dropped, out like a light, and Jenny caught him awkwardly on the way down to minimise noise. She stood up again and wiped her hands clean, rather proud of herself, before grabbing her gun once more and moving towards the back of the van.

DuPonte was biding his time until the two guards had busied themselves unlocking and opening the doors. It was in that moment that he chose to pounce, shoving one guard's head into the door and, as that man fell to the ground, the other gripped his gun and aimed it in DuPonte's direction. He didn't have time to react, but he'd been expecting it. He dropped to the ground and kicked the man's legs out from under him, causing him to topple backwards and fire shots into the air.

That was when chaos ensued. Tourists and locals alike, all were screaming and running away from the scene. It also meant that more armed officials, both from following vehicles and from inside the courthouse, responded to the situation. Now, DuPonte knew, they would be outnumbered, but he still had the second guard to deal with. The man had almost abandoned the gun for a moment to wrestle, giving DuPonte enough time to collect his thoughts, but he soon remembered it and gripped it once more, as he tried to jump to his feet, but he did not have a chance. Gibbs hurtled towards the struggling guard at an outstanding pace and knocked him flat on his back, his head hitting the road hard and he dropped out of consciousness.

Jenny came around the corner of the van as more armed officers and prison guards rushed towards them. "We'd better get outta here now! Come on, Ducky!"

The older gentleman made his way out of the van after Gibbs very quickly, adrenaline surging through his veins now too. He practically jumped out and joined the other three in taking cover on the other side of the van as it was hailed with bullets from gunfire that they didn't even know was coming. Jenny tried to look, but there was no way she could see where it was coming from without getting shot. DuPonte, on the other hand, was more concerned with getting out of there quickly instead of safely, and was pulling them towards their rental. Jenny gave up on trying to fight and chose the flight path as well, following them as DuPonte got managed to dive roll passed a hail of bullets and get into the driver's seat with Gibbs and Ducky following immediately and getting into the open passenger door. Their hands were still cuffed behind their back, so it was more of a leap head first into the car, one after the other. Gibbs let Ducky get in first and then jumped on top of the man afterwards as Jenny ran forth, gunfire still raging behind her and ripped open the passenger side door, jumping in quickly and shutting hers and Gibbs' doors.

DuPonte already had the engine roaring and he sped off as soon as the Jenny closed her door. They could still hear the bullets tearing towards them and missing, like they had been doing so for the past thirty seconds, but it died off as they sped around a corner. No one had dared yet make the comment that the French police had abysmal aim, but they were all thinking it, ecstatic to have made it out of that alive. Jenny was counting her blessings and found herself staring at Gibbs the whole time. She'd reached into the back seat to help Gibbs and Ducky sit up properly and then picked the locks on their handcuffs as DuPonte was pulling speedway tricks to evade the now pursuing police officers. The three NCIS staffers were having flashbacks of their last epic car adventure in Carcassonne with police hot on their trail and prayed that this one would end differently.

"How is it possible that this operation stems high up enough in your police force that we're being hunted through Paris by them?" Gibsb ejected as soon as his hands were free and he could make rapid gestures to accompany his words. "And who are you?"

"Alexandre DuPonte, French Intelligence," the driver answered quickly and then looked to Jenny to take over in the explanation.

She caught on and did so immediately. "There is a DCPJ agent, the head of a department, who is leading the operation. He has many powerful people in his pocket, including a politician and a Navy captain."

"Name?" Gibbs asked shortly.

"Didier Raoul Corentin," DuPonte answered.

"Where are we going?" Ducky asked, breaking up the chatter about the case.

"Out of the city," DuPonte replied quickly as his driving skills became madder by the minute. "Probably the north-west coast. You can get a boat across the Channel to southern England."

"Good idea," Jenny agreed and then turned around to face Gibbs once more. "What happened?"

Gibbs could tell that she was talking about the wounds that were inflicted on him the night before. He merely shrugged and gave no verbal answer.

Jenny then turned to Ducky. "You know these streets better than me, why don't you hop into the front seat? I can clean Jethro's cuts." And so they awkwardly swapped seats as DuPonte raced down the highway doing twice the permissible speed limit. They could still hear sirens, but they were at least a quarter of a mile behind now.

As Ducky opened the map of the streets of exterior Paris, Jenny pulled out a first aid kit, dabbing some disinfectant on to a tissue and leaning forward to wipe Gibbs face. He shied away from her touch initially, but as it became softer and he became accustomed to the sting of the disinfectant, he found himself leaning towards her. There was no need for words between them—they communicated their thoughts through their bodily and facial expressions.

They sat together in silence when she finished, looking deeply at each other and lost for words. Both knew how close they'd come to losing their lives, and Jenny's gesture of coming to get them was as potent in his mind as her betrayal in Toulouse. He didn't want to bring it up, but he could see the guilt-stricken pain in her eyes.

"It wasn't your fault, Jenny," Gibbs murmured, not wanting the two men in the front to hear their conversation. "You did what you had to do and you came back for us. You don't need to apologise."

But she did anyway. "I'm so sorry, Jethro. If I had known what would've happened to you-"

Gibbs cut her off. "Never say you're sorry. It's a sign of weakness." Jenny found herself murmuring the last part with him. Gibbs smiled at her softly, a smile that she returned. "So at least tell me that you two found out who killed Agent Bellings. I don't wanna hear that this whole party was for nothing."

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**As always, please show your appreciation by reviewing. **


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.**

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**Chapter Eleven**

_11 August 2000_

_Rue Edgar Poulet, Le Havre, approximately 200 km north-west of Paris_

_3.15 p.m. (1415 GMT)_

They had escaped Paris successfully and Jenny knew that she probably owed it to Ducky's navigation skills and DuPonte's driving skills under pressure. They had lost the police vehicles after about twenty minutes and then took the main highway out of the capital, knowing full well that it was risky, but it was the quickest way and probably riskier to stay in Paris. DuPonte decided to continue in that roundabout direction and took the next main road towards Le Havre, where they could find, or steal, transport to Portsmouth, England.

She'd fallen asleep quite soon after the action died off, lying back in her seat but eventually, and unintentionally, drifting sidewards to sleep against Gibbs' shoulder. He didn't seem to mind, quite the opposite in fact, and he placed an arm around her and pulled her tighter, himself too drifting off to the motion of the car. Both Ducky and DuPonte looked back at them, but remained silent, not even daring to share thoughts with each other. Regardless of their current emotional predicament or recent attitudes towards each other, they were definitely content in resting within each other's embraces.

And so, after two hours, they finally arrived in Le Havre and ditched the rental on a side street, hoping it was inconspicuous enough not to be found until they were far away from France, but all of them knew that that was a lofty goal. Their faces, and probably the car too, would be all over Interpol as well as in the local precincts of every French police station and breaking news on every French news station. They were carrying only what they needed to bring with them to England, leaving behind extra clothing and luxury items in their deserted rental. With their guns reloaded and stowed away, hidden to the public, and their knapsacks on their backs, they walked away from the car, almost whistling and towards the dock to find a way to get to Portsmouth.

"Jenny, you and Gibbs find us a boat," DuPonte told her authoritatively and then turned to their other travelling partner. "Ducky, your French would be useful in finding the way out of here without drawing too much attention from the coast guard."

"Won't they recognise you?" Gibbs asked, his eyes narrowed in clear distaste of the plan.

"I didn't say that we would speak to anyone, Agent Gibbs," DuPonte replied with a smile as they parted in separate directions.

Gibbs and Jenny walked closely together towards the marina, avoiding suspicion by looking like a couple enjoying an afternoon's walk by the water. They kept the facade up as they inconspicuously inspected the boats for its owners. They noticed a small, but expensive sailing yacht at the end of the wharf.

"Wait here," Jenny whispered to Gibbs as she let go of him and walked towards the boat. Gibbs watched intently as she sweet-talked the sentry at the gate to let her on to the wharf and walked towards the yacht. The yacht's owner, well, probably minder, Gibbs thought, was standing idly by on the bow of the watercraft, but upon noticing Jenny's approach, he ran out to meet her. Gibbs walked closer to the dock to get a better look and noticed that the boat's sitter was no older than twenty and definitely mesmerised by the redhead. He couldn't hear the exchange between them, but she convinced the boy to run off towards the sailing club.

As soon as he was out of sight, Jenny signalled, albeit discreetly, to Gibbs to follow her on to the ship. The yacht wasn't large but it would be enough to get to Portsmouth. As he approached, he noticed Jenny sending a text message on her phone, guessing that it would be to DuPonte.

"How did you get the kid off the boat?" Gibbs asked as he leaped up on to the bow.

"Told him that I was his boss' new mistress and to go and get me a smoothie," Jenny answered, walking towards the helm. "Can you drive this thing? We need to go before he backs."

"Drive? And what about Ducky and DuPonte?"

"We'll pick them up over there," Jenny told him, pointing in the direction of the other side of the town's main port. "Alexandre said that we have clearance to depart on the computers. We're good to go."

Gibbs shrugged and stepped up to the helm, taking charge of the boat and steering it in the direction of the other side of the port.

"Can I try?" Jenny asked with a mischievous smile, stepping behind him. He smiled back at her and stepped out the way, letting her slip in front of him. He pressed closer to her body, his hands grasping over the top of hers as she steered towards the last dock. Despite what her mind was telling her, she leant back into his touch, taking in his signature smell and feel. Gibbs snuggled up closer to her, his chin resting on her shoulder and his lips just millimetres from her cheek.

"Brings back memories, doesn't it?" Gibbs breathed on her.

Jenny closed her eyes but didn't step away. She drew in a deep breath.

"Not all bad memories," Gibbs whispered in her ear.

"No," Jenny muttered back in barely more than a whisper. "But this isn't right, Jethro. We need to do what is best for us. After all, you're going back to DC and I'm staying here in Europe."

"You don't have to stay," Gibbs told her softly.

"You're married," Jenny pointed out, her voice a little stronger.

"You let me deal with that."

"No," Jenny told him, her voice finally strong, firm and decisive. She stepped away from the helm and let Gibbs take charge of the yacht once more. "We can't do this, Jethro."

"Why the _hell_ not?!" Gibbs spat back at her. He was having a hard time concentrating on the movement of the boat and the conversation he was having with Jenny. Neither of them noticed the sirens that were searing towards the port.

"Because I need to do what's best for me and you need to move on," Jenny retorted. "I already tried to tell you this."

"You put it into a letter-"

"We can't be together, Gibbs! Things will never work out between us." Jenny continued to glare at Gibbs, but the final, awkward silence that had enveloped the atmosphere around them allowed room for another noise to come in. They finally heard the sirens.

"I think we've been found," Gibbs muttered. They were fast approaching the last wharf and they could see Ducky and DuPonte waving them down at the end of it. Corentin and the DCPJ had found them again and they were not only flanked by backup officers in the police force, whom Gibbs suspected were not entirely clean, but by other 'gang-looking' members as well.

As Gibbs moored the yacht against the wharf, Corentin opened fire on the boat as Ducky scrambled aboard. DuPonte stayed on the wharf, pulling out his Beretta and firing several shots back at the party on the edge of the wharf. He must have taken out a few, Gibbs knew, because there were soon bodies in the water. Behind the group of shooters, Jenny could see another group of people. They did not have weapons but they were not innocent bystanders either. She saw the politician and the Naval captain that she'd seen earlier, but the man further behind them drew her attention. It was Renè Benoit, of that much she was sure. Anger and determination poured into her veins, mixing in with the fear in adrenaline and, as much as she wanted to arrest Benoit, there was no way that today was going to be _that_ day. He was so close, but so far away and she was biting back at her distaste at that thought.

Gibbs didn't notice who she was staring at, but he noticed the change in her demeanour. "Help me!" he cried to her, trying to shift her attention back to the problem at hand. Together, they pulled Ducky onto the top deck and then tried to do the same for DuPonte. Ducky ran directly to the helm to taken control of the steering, moving the swaying boat closer to the wharf so that they could pull DuPonte aboard.

But they were not quick enough. Jenny and Gibbs listened in horror as they heard three successive shots ring out. The smoke was pouring out of Corentin's gun and his men had stopped firing. For a moment, neither of them knew who was hit, until DuPonte fell sideways into the water. Jenny moved first, without even thinking, and dived off the boat after him.

"JEN!" Gibbs called out after her. He dived in immediately after, feeling her slim form under the water a few moments later and he pulled her up to the surface.

"We have to get Alexandre!" Jenny yelled at him.

"He's dead, Jenny," Gibbs told her softly, his arms around her body as he kicked back towards the boat. "He's gone." They felt bullets rush past their bodies as they hit the water. Corentin's men had resumed shooting as Gibbs kicked as fast as he could back to the yacht, pulling Jenny with him. Ducky ran towards the bow, abandoning the helm, and pulled Jenny out of the water first, then helped Gibbs get up.

"We gotta get outta here! Now!" Gibbs called out and ran back to the helm. The engine was fired up and he spun the yacht around towards the starboard side. Corentin was still firing at them, but they were now moving too quickly to be hit. Gibbs was speeding through the harbour, his gut telling him that the French coast guard or navy was going to be right be him. Ducky helped him navigate his way out of the harbour and along the channel to Portsmouth. Jenny, on the other hand, had sunk to her knees on the deck, her face white in shock. The situation had definitely heated up and they were still a long way from getting out of it.

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**So that leaves one chapter left.... and I am definitely looking forward to finishing this story. Hopefully, it will be up on the weekend. Please review.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.**

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**Chapter Twelve**

_11 August 2000_

_English Channel, 26 miles from Portsmouth_

_6.46 p.m. (1846 GMT)_

Luck or divine intervention, whatever you wanted to call it, they managed to escape Le Havre harbour miles ahead of the French Coast Guard, putting them in a good position to disembark in Portsmouth, safely out of the reach of Corentin and his disciples. The calm waters coupled with the relaxing notion that they were finally a safe distance from the edge of the cliff brought a great deal of tranquillity to the boat, but Jenny knew better than to take such peacefulness at face value.

They were at the eye of the storm. The worst was still to come if they could not convince Europol to intervene. The French state has sovereignty after all, and no outside organisation has the perceived right to intervene unless they can establish that right. Unless Jenny could establish an ongoing, illicit and international operation placing Didier Raoul Corentin, a section chief for the DCPJ, at the centre of it, there was no guarantee of intervention, either by the part of Europol or the EU, or the French government, which meant that that whole party, including DuPonte's death, was for nothing.

The back-to-back action of the past few days had left little time for Jenny to contemplate her original orders. "We cannot afford to damage the ties we have with the French government," Director Morrow had told her explicitly. She'd spent too much time with Gibbs and she knew it— bending the rules to get results. Well, her actions definitely damaged something in the French government, and it was probably their ego in the international community. A senior police official, a navy captain and experienced politician all involved in the same mishap. This certainly would not look good for the French government and it would be even worse for them if Europol or the European Union had to intervene on the behalf of justice and arrest each man independently. Yes, Jenny knew, ties with the government will definitely be soured, if they hadn't already. Then there was all the illegal activity that she'd been involved in over the past few days... Jenny didn't even want to go into that.

"You okay?"

The deeper, male voice broke a gaping hole through the thoughts that were ravaging her conscience and mind. She should've known that he was there before he announced himself, sensed his arrival through some bizarre form of intuition or at least heard his loud breathing, but she did not. It was a mark of how much she'd closed herself off to the outside world.

"Just in my own little world, Jethro," Jenny answered bristly. She was still sitting on the wooden deck on the bow, her back and head resting against the frame of the ship.

Gibbs sighed and joined her on the floor. "You thinking of DuPonte? He seemed like a nice guy. Shame about what happened to him."

"Alexandre knew what he was getting into," Jenny told him, convincing herself of that at the same time as Gibbs. "He was prepared to do whatever was necessary to bring Corentin and his men to justice, even if it led to his death."

"Brave man," Gibbs commented. An awkward pause then gripped their conversation, a deafening silence rippling through the yacht, reiterating the dread of the eye of the storm. Gibbs was biting the interior of his lower lip nervously. He wanted to ask Jenny something, actually, a few somethings, but he couldn't quite find the words.

"Spit it out, Jethro, before it gags you," Jenny warned darkly. Her intuition served her well when it came to Gibbs and what he was thinking.

"Who was that man on the wharf that you were staring at?"

"Why does it matter to you?"

"He nearly stopped you from doing your job and I want to know why," Gibbs replied coldly.

"I did my job," Jenny retorted with a dark laugh. "And you don't need to pretend to worry about me anymore, Jethro. I'm not your concern or responsibility anymore." She stood up to walk away and glanced back at his solemn form on the floor. "You'll return to DC as soon as we get to Portsmouth and I'll probably go on to The Hague. After today, this will all just be a bad memory." And with that, she walked away from him.

They arrived in Portsmouth not long after and were escorted into the port by British Royal Navy assault crafts. At first, Jenny was concerned that they would be arrested by the British and handed over to the French, but her concerns went away when she saw a very familiar African American man standing idly by in the centre of the wharf as Gibbs and Ducky moored their yacht.

"You stole a boat, Jenny?" the man asked as she disembarked.

"Commandeered, Leon," Jenny answered, her expression proving that rather ecstatic by his presence. "Nautical term."

"Of course. Agent Gibbs, Doctor Mallard." Vance nodded to each of them and then turned her attention back to Jenny as they walked in pairs towards the central terminal. "Do you have any idea what sort of international incident you caused?"

"I have evidence implicating several members of the French upper echelon in an arms smuggling scheme," Jenny answered, pulling a file out of her dampened ready bag. "Capitaine Andrè Foucaine, French Navy, Jean-Baptiste de Larcy, National Assembly and the man we suspect to be at the head of the operation, Didier Roaul Corentin from the Central Directorate of Judicial Police. He's the section chief of the Sub-Directorate of Criminal Businesses. I only found that part out when he was chasing us so vehemently."

"I know that you've had an interesting day today," Vance agreed, taking the file from her hands and flicking through the photographs she'd taken earlier that day with DuPonte. "What happened to the French Intelligence officer that was with you?"

"Alexandre DuPonte. He was shot dead by Corentin as we fled from Le Havre."

Vance nodded but did not offer his sympathies, even though he could sense that Jenny had grown attached to him. "We are flying to The Hague tonight. Jethro, Doctor Mallard, your orders are to return DC tonight. I have booked charted flights for all of us leaving Southampton Airport in an hour, so we need to get a move on."

Jenny nodded, inwardly thinking how much she wanted a shower before briefing the Europol agents, but she knew they had no time to waste. By now, Corentin and his men could have flown somewhere with no extradition and they would lose them forever. After DuPonte gave his life, Jenny could not let that happen.

The hour-long car journey to the airport was a quiet one. Vance asked them all questions about their investigation, where they'd gone and who they met. He asked Gibbs and Ducky about their time in French custody and Jenny about her experiences at the warehouse, typing it all into an email that he was going to send to the Director. Jenny hadn't spoken to Gibbs since she walked away from him, but she knew that he was etching to say something.

As they filed through Customs at the small airport terminal, with Jenny finally using her own name on official documentation, the time was fast approaching for them to go their separate ways. Using the excuse of a desperately required trip to the bathroom, Jenny slipped away from the group and stumbled into the empty bathroom, grateful for the few moments she would get to herself. But the bathroom did not remain empty for long. Gibbs had followed her in, ignoring the laws of social etiquette to get a few words in with Jenny before they departed.

"I don't want things to end like this between us, Jenny," he told her, pinning her body between his and the basin.

"We are going our separate ways," Jenny reiterated. "This is what is best for the both of us. Now, please, move out of my way." She was blinking back tears and he knew it, because in a flash, he was cupping her cheek and wiping the only falling tear from her cheek.

"I don't want to lose you," he whispered softly.

She was doing her best to stay strong, but his voice was pleading. Regardless of her weakness, she managed to summon the required strength to push him away, the walls around her heart shooting up as the facade she so often tried to maintain took hold. Jenny looked him square in the eye and threw back an angry retort. "You have already lost me."

Gibbs doubled back, shock and disappointment rife inside him as he slackened his grip on the basin and let her pass. Jenny stormed out of the bathroom and he knew that was the last straw between them, but she had one final blow to deal.

"I never want to see you again."

_Fin._

**So I do hope that this story was enjoyable to all of you that read it. I would also like to let you know that I am co-writing with a friend of mine on a series of JIBBS pre-series Europe fics. Our pen name is Future Ex-Wives 5 and 6 and the first fic, with a working title of _Crash Course in Polite Conversation,_ should be up within a fortnight or so. Expect a lot of romance, drama, action and hot, hot scenes (both in and out of the bedroom). **

**Anyway, thank you so much for reading this story and please write me one last review. Even if you've never reviewed on this story before, I'd love to hear your thoughts.**


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